#a red-furred stranger with a gentle smile.

[throughdarkeningskies]

brb making a warrior cats au for my ocs

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer in love with an artist reader

・❥ There’s only one good way to start the day… pancakes and ice cream.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

warning: mild swearing

You were awoken by something shifting against your chest. You stirred, adjusting slightly as you lay on your side. 

You let the covers slide around you, the cool touch of the pillow beneath your face made you smile sleepily. That’s right, you were in your bed snuggled warmly beneath your sheets. Which is not where you remembered falling asleep last night. 

Does that mean everything that happened yesterday was just a really weird dream? 

If it was, it was the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. And, it seemed a little too crazy to be real. Being thrown off a balcony and being seconds away from shooting a man, all in the same night, was not a usual day for you. 

Your brain was still foggy with sleep, and all you wanted to do was burrow your face farther into the pillow and drift off. Except, that pressure on your chest was making it hard to.

“KeeKee.. please, not right now..” You mumbled into the fabric, your voice laced with drowsiness. There was no response from the feline, but the form shifted slightly besides you, as if to nuzzle closer to you. 

Sometimes you’d find her sleeping beside you, but that was pretty rare. Even so, you weren’t going to let her ruin your beauty sleep. With gentle movements, you slowly slid your arm forward, and your fingers brushed against soft hair.

Your palms hit a firm surface beneath the silky strands. Did KeeKee always have this long of fur? Did she gain weight too? You only ignored your suspicions, and slowly pushed her off your chest, farther across the bed. Sighing happily, you pulled the covers closer to you, embracing its warmth. 

You felt something stir beside you, and the warm figure snuggled back into your chest. You groaned softly, you were too tired to take this attitude from the cat.

Lifting your arm again, your fingers quickly reached up and grasped the warm silhouette. This time, however, you let your hand travel down the form. Until you halted suddenly, your fingers grazing against something smooth and hairless. You didn’t remember KeeKee having any bald spots.

Slowly, you felt farther along. You could feel curves in the surface, cracks even. 

What in the worl-

“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?” a voice grumbled sleepily through your fingers. 

Wait a second. There was a person in your bed?!

Your eyes shot open, the curtains thankfully covering the morning light from blinding you as you jumped out of the covers. Instinctively, your leg shot forward, kicking the stranger right in the side. He was sent tumbling off the bed with an audible “oomph,” and a heavy thump reverberated around the room. Followed by silence. 

You kneeled on top of the bed, heart pounding as your nerves settled. You blinked, you had recognized that voice. Had that been Lucifer?! 

You hurriedly crawled across the bed, your head peeking from off the side of it as you peered below you. Laying face down, was the familiar naked back of the fallen angel. His blonde hair messily spread across the wooden floor as he lay there motionless.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!” You yelled down to him. He stirred, his head nodding slowly under the hair. 

“You know, not too bad actually. Believe it or not, i’ve taken harder falls.” He mumbled against the wood. 

Lucifer shifted, rolling onto his back. He looked up at you, before blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked totally fine, if not tired from the sudden awakening. A few rays of the morning light beamed through the window, casting some of his features in a red glow as he watched you. God, he was gorgeous. 

“I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed, what happened?” You asked him, slowly sitting up from your position. He mirrored you, lifting his torso from the ground. 

“You didn’t expect us to sleep in a chair all night, did you? I’d be cracking my back for days if that was the case. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so I couldn’t bother to wake you. But yes, I moved us to the bed.���

“So yesterday was real..” You whispered, 

“Uh, yeah. I killed a bunch of scumbags and saved you from becoming a splat on the pavement. Yesterday was definitely real.” 

Lucifer sat up fully, before getting to his feet. He stretched, raising his arms above his head before opening his mouth up in a yawn. He was already dressed in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants as he strolled to the bathroom. Did he put those on using magic?

You stood from the edge of the bed, quickly walking to your dresser and pulling out a casual outfit. You began slipping it on, before turning towards the open bathroom door.

You watched Lucifer’s back flex slightly as he bent over to wash his face in the sink, your eyes drinking in his figure. Lucifer looked nothing like the ancient paintings visualized him to be. Your brain immediately recalled the image of Alexandre Cabanel’s famous painting, ‘The Fallen Angel’.

It depicted Lucifer as wide-shouldered, toned from head to toe with thick muscles. Nice calves too. Yet, standing here before you, he embodied an angel much more than he did in that painting. Elegant, serene, otherworldly. 

Like how the candlelight perfectly illuminated his pearly-white skin, as if he was being basked in moonlight. Or how his touch was like velvet sheets against your skin, soft and delicate as he ran his fingers down your waist. 

He exuded a certain feminine grace, that enraptured you when those pretty eyes of his sent you looks of adoration as you rambled about your current fixations, or gave him more lessons in art history. You smiled warmly at the thought, he was precious to you, no doubt. 

“You know what, I’m thinking.. pancakes! We’ll finally put that big kitchen downstairs to use and make some breakfast.” Lucifer broke you out of your thoughts, as he walked up to you, pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Damn, did he change without you even noticing again? 

You smiled as he approached, the thought of food making your stomach growl. You were unbelievably hungry, seeing as there wasn’t exactly time last night to stop for a meal. 

“That sounds like a good idea, we’ll get everyone else in on it too and eat together, a big hazbin-family breakfast.” 

Lucifer nodded as he turned away from you, his eyes scanning the room. “Which reminds me, that means I can give Charlie the tuxedo…” He trailed off, turning to you slowly, a look of panic on his features.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, growling at himself. “I must have left the bag with her suit back at the club! Ugh, I'm such an idiot.” 

“It’s still early, it won’t take you more than a minute to get across the city. Go get her a new one.” You commanded, pointing towards the balcony doors in your room. 

Lucifer followed your finger, and then nodded quickly. “You’re right, I’ll go do that.” Quickly, he adjudged his bow-tie, before heading for the doors. 

It wasn’t until his hand was just inches from the handle, did you see the rather large reddish-purple mark sticking out from the crook of his neck. Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as you realized what exactly caused the bruise. How did you not notice that before?! 

Quickly, you ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face you. “Wait! You.. well-you, um… got something on your neck?” 

He regarded you for a moment, confusion written across his face. “Something.. on my neck?” 

Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly reached up to grab the top of his shirt. On even further inspection, and a slight adjustment of his collar, you could make out the fainted curved indents of teeth marks along his collar bone.

Did you bite him that hard last night? You shouldn’t have done that. What if Charlie saw it? That would be so awkward. 

“From.. last night,” you finally uttered, “when I got a little carried away.” 

Lucifer’s gaze narrowed, and then they widened slightly as he understood. A smirk tugged on his lips as he backed away from your grasp. “So?” 

“What do you mean ‘so’? It’s not normal for people to be walking around with hickeys all over them for everyone to gawk at!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.

“Why, so they won’t know I had you screaming my name, drenched on top of that table?” He asked, motioning towards the very same dining table that you had been laid over in pure bliss the night before.

You quickly averted your gaze to stop a mental picture forming, and instead met his eyes. Sending him a glare for his bluntness. Walking across the room, you bent down and pulled his overcoat from the side of your bed. Brushing off any dirt, you made your way back to Lucifer.

Silently, you wrestled him into the white garment. He stood there and watched as you adjusted his tall collar, trying your best to hide any love marks. After a little more fussing, you felt satisfied with your work and stepped back. 

“There, you’re ready to go! Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go remind everyone that I am alive.” You spoke. Last night, Lucifer had told you Angel Dust had been dropped in the lobby. It was late enough where everyone should have been asleep, and since nobody came to look for you after that, you assumed Angel had passed out and was probably working through a nasty hangover somewhere in the hotel.

You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, before nudging him towards the balcony doors. He turned, pulling them open and crossing the threshold. You stood in the entryway, watching him stroll to the black, metal railing. He glanced over the side, contemplating for a moment.

“Now, watch how the pro does it.” Lucifer teased as he turned to face you, his back leaning against the railing. With a little boost, he flipped himself backwards and vaulted over the metal bars. Your eyes widened in shock as he began to fall.

Right as his feet left the balcony, you ran to the railing peering over the side as you watched him plummet to the ground. Beneath him, a large, golden portal swirled alive waiting for him. 

He waved up to you just as he crossed it, the portal swallowing him up and vanishing without a trace. You smiled, shaking your head at his little performance before turning back towards the doors. 

For a few more minutes, you were busy tidying yourself up and trying to look presentable. You quickly squeezed some soap out of the little yellow ducky on the sink counter, and washed your hands and face. Soon, you noticed you were also adorned with a few love marks from Lucifer, and you sat in front of the mirror trying to hide them the best you could. 

Feeling satisfied with your work, you turned away and headed for the doorway that led into the rest of the hotel. Grasping the handle, you slowly cracked the door open, peeking your head out slightly as you listed.

You could hear loud voices down the halls, in the direction of the lobby. There were multiple of them as if everyone was gathered in the same room, you exhaled a breath before straightening. Time to face the music. 

Heading down the stairs, you strolled through the hallways. The voices became more and more audible as you closed in on the large, open room.

“-and then, I looked behind them and there was this guy all bloody and shit, pointing a gun right at Lucifer! I barely saw anything else happen b’for I was sucked into this.. golden portal or something.” Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the lobby, as he retold the events of last night. He was standing in front of the T.V, the residents of the hotel listening from the couches circled around him. They leaned in, engrossed in his story. 

“Next thing I knew, my ass hit the floor right here. God.. I was just so out of it I practically passed out where I was. I don’t remember seeing either of them after that.. hey! you!” Angel’s eyes widened as he noticed you walking towards them. Suddenly, the entire hotel’s gaze was locked onto you.

Charlie quickly shot up from the couch, hurrying over to you. She scanned your figure, searching for any injuries as you stopped before her. After noting nothing serious was wrong with you, she took your hand, gripping it tightly. “Where have you been? Angel just told us everything that happened! Are you okay?” 

“Don’t worry, I'm fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.” You assured the princess, smiling at her. Turning to the spider-demon, you scanned him for any injuries as well. “How about you, Angel. Are you okay?”

“Pfft, yeah. I’m okay. Just a lil shaken up, especially after watching you almost get shot. It seemed you got a good sleep, though.” 

“Wait, you’ve been here this whole fucking time. Did anyone else know that?” Vaggie called from the couch, crossing her arms as she stood up. 

“I did. They’ve been here all night.” Nifty spoke from the floor, her single eye staring into you. 

How did she know that? Did Nifty.. hear anything?

“Uhm.. yes, that’s right. Yesterday was just rough. So, I went to sleep right away.” You answered, lying through your teeth.

“And my dad?” Charlie questioned.

You shrugged, “I have no clue.”

“Well, at least our dear friend is back safe and sound!” A familiar voice exclaimed from next to you. You jumped slightly, turning to see Alastor and his award-winning smile as he looked at you. “Charlie insisted that I come find you, but I assured her you are capable of handling your own affairs. Especially, with our lovely king to protect you.”

You smiled slightly at him, “Yes, indeed. I’m sorry for not coming to see you guys sooner. I just got.. distracted.” 

“With what?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. You paused, before opening your mouth to speak.

You weren’t able to get a word out before you heard a thumping coming from the front doors of the hotel. Everyone turned towards the noise, and through the stained glass, you could make out the silhouette of a rather tall hat peeking from the bottom of the glass.

“Well, ain’t that a little too good of timing.” Husk grumbled from the bar, as he leaned over the counter to get a look at the doorway. You silently agreed, that was fast. 

Charlie recognized the familiar figure as well, and quickly ran to the door. She yanked it open, and there he was. Lucifer stood, adorned in his full outfit, a pink bag in his hand as he strode into the room. Next to you, you swore Alastor’s grip on his cane tightened. 

“Charlie, good morning! How are you doing, sweetheart?” Lucifer beamed as he embraced her, who accepted the hug gratefully.

“I’m good, dad. But, what about you? I heard what happened! Did you kill people?” She eyed him with a firm stare, as if in disapproval of his actions.

Lucifer shrugged, “Only bad people, I had to protect your spider-friend over there. You should keep a better eye on him.”

“Apparently,” Charlie sighed, glancing at Angel behind them before turning back to her father, “and where have you been?”

Lucifer’s gaze momentarily landed on you, and you shook your head slightly. ‘Don’t say anything about it,’ you commanded him through your eyes. Especially not with everyone in the room, hungry for more information. 

“Oh, wellllll, I was just in town and snagged this for you!” Lucifer lifted up the pink bag, a nervous smile on his lips as he held it out for Charlie to take.

Eyeing it curiously, Charlie gently took it from his hands. She peered into it, her eyes widening as she reached in and lifted the garment from its wrapping. 

It was that same red suit that you had eyed through the glass display the day before, gold lapels shimmered in the light above. It was very beautiful, and you thought it would look good against Charlie’s ivory skin. 

Charlie didn’t say anything, instead, she just stood there. The tuxedo in her grip, opened fully to reveal the entire garment. Her fingers lightly trailed down the front of it, grazing across the buttons and textured sleeves. Her eyes were unreadable, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“Did you.. buy this for me?” She asked after a moment, looking up at Lucifer. He met her gaze, seemingly a little nervous from her reaction. 

“Well, you said the one you had was getting a bunch of wear and tear, so I thought that would look perfect on you. Do.. you like it?” 

“I love it!” Charlie exclaimed with glee, she set the suit aside and pulled her father into another bear hug. “Thank you so much! It's wonderful, especially since it’s from you!” 

Lucifer exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, he tightened his arms around her, trying to capture every second of her loving gesture in his hold. He smiled warmly, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tear up. 

He didn’t, instead he pulled away, straightening his back. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before looking back at Charlie. The adoration in his eyes was on full display, and if anyone ever doubted that the mighty king didn’t love his daughter, you’d slap them.

Adjusting his collar, Lucifer turned towards the group of onlookers. “Now, who wants some pancakes?” 

Everyone seemed to perk at that, and Nifty hopped from her spot next to Alastor, raising her hand in excitement. 

“As long as they are sssstrawberry pancakesss!” Sir. Pentious declared as he rose from his seat, slithering towards the swinging doors, where the large kitchen lay behind. His little eggs waddling after him, a chorus of ‘oh boy!’s rose from the shells.

“Cmon,” Husk beckoned Angel Dust as he left the bar, “Let's get something in your stomach to fight that hangover of yours.”

“Oh, yes please” Angel smiled, joining the bartender. Even Alastor seemed interested in joining them in the other room, as he slowly followed behind the group. 

“I’m kinda feeling waffles today.” Vaggie spoke up, her hand entwined with Charlie’s as they walked. 

“We can make whatever you wish,” you responded, smiling at her, “except, maybe not eggs. At least with the company we’re keeping.” 

Pushing open the red doors, the flooring shifted into large, white marble tiles. The room was stuffed with cabinets and pantries, multiple fridges also dotted its perimeter. Long, creamy-white stone countertops lined the walls, as well as a large kitchen island in the center of the space. 

There was an empty space on the other side of the room, big enough to hold a large dining table and chairs. It was actually a great place to do something like that, but where could 

Behind you, Lucifer was pulling different ingredients out of the fridge. The shelves were surprisingly well stocked, even the pantries above as he continued to pull out items of importance.

“Dad, shouldn’t you take off your coat?” Charlie asked beside him, as she tied an apron around her waist. You tensed, slowly pivoting to their direction.

Lucifer halted, a box of baking powder hanging in mid-air between his fingers. His gaze snapped to you, then back to Charlie. You were desperately hoping no one could see the sweat beading down your forehead.  

“You’re right,” Lucifer started, as he placed the baking powder on the counter, “I can’t cook with such loose sleeves.” 

He snapped his fingers, and it seemed like the coat began to melt against his skin, shifting into a white turtleneck. The long neck sleeve covered the hickeys that peppered the sides of his throat, continuing to hide your previous entanglement. And, damn, he looked really nice in that outfit too. 

Tying on a red apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. After pulling up his sleeves, Lucifer began to pull out mixing bowls and other utensils. 

“Just you wait, Charlie, after today you’ll never want anyone else’s pancakes again. My recipe is the best there is.” He spoke, puffing out his chest slightly as he addressed his daughter. 

Charlie only laughed softly, pulling out a box containing waffle mix as she sidled up next to her dad. “I don’t doubt that one bit!” 

As the two continued prepping to cook, you turned to grab an apron of your own. As you walked to the wooden hooks hanging on the wall, you took note of the others around you. 

Angel, Husk, and Sir. Pentious huddled together over another counter, a carton of milk and a jar of strawberry jam laid in front of them.

“How ‘bout we make ya some strawberry milk while we wait, snake boy?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips. Sir. Pentious nodded quickly, his hood raised in happiness. 

Using a tablespoon to take a few scoops out of the jar, he plopped them into an empty cocktail mixer that he borrowed from the bar. Pouring in the milk, he placed the lid on the mixer, before handing it to Husk. 

With a few shakes—and a couple of party tricks consisting of him catching the mixer behind his back, and spinning it across his forearm—the lid was popped off, and Husk poured the bright pink liquid into the glass cup in front of Sir. Pentious. 

Both demons clapped for the bartender, who smiled proudly at the reaction. Sir. Pentious gingerly lifted the glass to his lips, before taking a small sip. After a moment, eyes lit up, a large smile on his face.

He took another large gulp, before thanking Angel Dust and Husk for the drink. 

“Oh, and don’t forget about my egg boisss.” Sir. Pentious turned to Angel Dust, pointing at the small group of eggs looking enviously up at the drink in his claws. 

Angel looked down, his eyes darting to the ingredients in front of him, before he simply shrugged. “Alright, who’s thirsty?” 

“I would like some, please!” Frank yelled excitedly, the eggs behind him jumping in place with large smiles on their faces. 

Angel Dust chuckled, turning away to grab more glasses. Husk was already preparing the scoops of jam, licking a small mess of the red foodstuff from his claws. 

Grabbing the apron from the hook, you adjusted it to your figure, tying it tight behind your back. Next to you, Vaggie was holding a knife in her hand. She was looking down, a firm gaze aimed at Nifty.

“No, Niff. This is not a place to run around with a knife. You can get it back after breakfast.” 

Nifty’s shoulders drooped, a frown on her face as she walked away. She passed by Alastor, who stood silently, watching the bustling group of demons. Wasn’t he going to join in? He was technically part of the Hazbin family. 

Slowly, you approached him, and his gaze snapped to you. His smile widened as he turned to you, the cane at his side rolling between his fingers. 

“Ah, hello there, my friend! Good to see you alive and well, ha-ha,” His eyes squinted as he tilted his head at you, “what can I do for you today?” 

“Don’t you want some food? We’ll be cooking soon. It doesn’t have to be breakfast, I think we have enough here to make whatever you want.” 

Alastor actually contemplated your question for a moment, his eyes staring off in thought. “Hm, well, there was something I had in mind, but the seasoning it needs is not in my possession anymore.” 

“What happened to it?” You asked curiously.

“I simply gave it to someone more in need of it than I. Hopefully, she’ll be putting good use to it.”

A lady friend? You wanted to ask about this ‘someone’, but felt prying wouldn’t get you anywhere with the mysterious overlord. Instead, you beckoned him to follow as you walked towards the counter space Lucifer and Charlie were situated at. 

You both stopped at the creamy-white marbled island. On its surface, was a large recipe book and different ingredients spread across. Alastor had to like something here, even if it wasn’t a decaying deer.

“Let’s see.. we could do french toast, yogurt parfaits, breakfast burritos, oh! We even could make hash browns! What do you think?”

Alastor bent down to look besides you, his eyes scanning the pages. He opened his mouth to speak, before his gaze snapped to another demon coming into view.

“Darling, i’ve finished the pancake mix. I was thinking you could…” Lucifer stopped, locking eyes with the Radio Demon. A frown formed on his lips, and his brow furrowed. “Oh. It’s you.” 

That smile Alastor held widened, as he straightened himself and turned towards the fallen angel. You grimaced, not again.

“Your majesty! What a pleasure to see you this hellish morning, I apologize for not being able to greet you when you arrived earlier.”

“A tragedy.” Lucifer responded mildly, before his eyes settled on you. 

“Well isn’t this nice! The four of us, all working together to make this breakfast special.” Charlie appeared besides her father, a smile on her lips as she tried to lighten the situation.

“Yes, I was just asking Alastor what else he thinks we should make.” You nodded along, before turning to the demon for his input.

“It appears your menu contains a less-than-ideal amount of meat, my friend. Perhaps, some bacon roll-ups? They were a staple for meals back in my days on earth. Very simple as well, just cream cheese, bread, and bacon!”

You were aware of what he was talking about. They were made by putting cream cheese on a slice of bread, before using a strip of bacon to roll it into a ball. You’d spear it with a toothpick and bake it for about twenty minutes, and wala, an odd delicacy.

“That is a great idea! Isn’t it, dad?” Charlie asked, nudging her father with her elbow, prodding for a response.

“It sounds kind of gross.” 

“Dad!” Charlie turned, a slight growl in her voice. “Say something nice!” 

“Bacon is much better than venison, though!” Lucifer quickly responded, following his daughter’s demand. You place a hand to your face, sighing at his antics. A hint of smile played on your lips as you walked forward, pulling Lucifer away by the arm.

Charlie turned back to Alastor, their conversation inaudible as you walked away. You went to the opposite side of the kitchen, where the bowl full of pancake batter lay. Flour messily covered the countertop, 

“You two need to learn to get along, you bicker like an old married couple.” You said after a few moments.

Lucifer shot you a look, visibly distraught by your comment. “That guy gets on my nerves! If it weren’t for Charlie liking him so much, I'd smite him.” 

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you teased, leaning against him. You both sat there for a few moments, silently indulging in each other's presence. Later, you’d ask to seek his company in the privacy of your room. For now, you pulled away, grabbing the mixing bowl.

“So, what did you need my help with?” 

“I thought you’d like to give the pancakes a little.. shape,” he started, turning towards the stove and spinning the dial, “use that artistic talent of yours and make a delicious masterpiece, hm?” 

You perked, he wants you to make pancake art? What a wonderful idea! This was something you have never done before, but you’ve seen enough videos to imitate it. “I’ll go get some dark food coloring, and another mixing bowl.”

Lucifer began placing pans onto the stove burners, placing small amounts of butter in each. They sizzled as the pan began to heat. You stood besides him, slowly stirring the batter as you hummed to the tune of ‘innsbruck, I must leave thee’ 

Soon, Lucifer was humming the notes as well, and you smiled warmly as the two of you stood-by-side, drowning out the other’s chatter with your little tune. 

Nearby, Vaggie and Charlie were giggling to each other as they placed the waffle mix into its designated maker. Small bowls of different fruit and syrup spread around, as they prepared the toppings. 

Alastor stood beside them, a large cooking fork floating mid-air in front of him. Small tendrils snaked around the utensil as it occasionally lowered to the pan in front of him to adjust the bacon. 

“Hey, Al! Why don’cha give us a table over here so we can have somewhere to eat?” Angel Dust called, a stack of plates in his hand. The egg bois stood patiently around him, each holding a set of silverware and napkins. 

Alastor turned to the spider-demon before humming a confirmation. Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers. A large oak table materialized from a cloud of green smoke, a long, red table-runner rolled free as it hung slightly off the edges.

Chairs seemingly rose from the floor like the undead, rocking slightly as they settled around the table. The egg bois rushed forward, clumsily climbing up the chairs as they began placing the silverware. Using his extra arms, Angel quickly placed the plates down, before doing the same with the glass cups. 

Husk raised Nifty by the waist, allowing her to reach over the table and pour the different liquid contents into their respectable glasses. 

Strawberry milk for Sir. Pentious and his bois, water for Alastor, and chocolate milk for Vaggie and Charlie. Apple juice filled Lucifer’s cup, and your favorite drink was topped to the brim right next to his.

In front of you, two bowls of batter laid beside the stove you stood at. One was a dark brown, the other a much lighter shade. 

You had cleaned two ketchup bottles, before slowly pouring in the different batters and filling them full. Using the bottles, you’d make batter shapes on the pan, and use the lighter shade to fill in the lineart.  

Right now, you were attempting to make the outline of a duck—who would have thought?—for Lucifer. It was coming out surprisingly well, in your opinion. The lines were rather smooth, and the beak looked like a beak so all seemed good. 

You switched bottles, ready to begin filling in the pancake. Before you felt someone sidle up behind you, fingers grazed softly down your back with familiar warmth.

“What are you doing now?” Lucifer peeked from behind you, getting a glimpse of your work. You moved over slightly, inviting him in front of your cooking easel. 

“Take a guess,” you smiled next to him, “I figured you’d want something cute to start off your day.”

“Well, it seems you made it too cute to eat.” Lucifer pouted, as he stared at the little pancake. You laughed, reaching for a spatula and gripping the pan handle with the other hand. 

“And it’s too cute to let it get cold and then throw it away.” You spoke, lowering the spatula into the pan. You shimmied it underneath the pancake, before flipping it quickly. As it landed, the image of the duck became much clearer, the lines flat and smooth. 

“I’m just glad you love me enough to combine my two favorite things.” Lucifer smiled, before he nuzzled his cheek softly against yours. You moved your head slightly, letting your lips graze against his cheekbone. 

Looking down at the pancake, you lifted it slightly to check whether it was done. Seeing the golden-brown hue, you lifted the ban from the burner. Slowly, you slid the duck-cake onto the finished pile. 

There were two plates of hot, delicious pancakes. One was simply everyday pancakes, which Lucifer had made. Yours on the other hand were handcrafted  Each one was a unique shape. There was a smiley face, an octopus, a butterfly, a fish, and now, a duck. You smiled proudly at your creations. 

Picking up the plates of pancakes, the two of you walked towards the dining table. The egg bois were already seated, and the others were finishing up their tasks.

“Finally, let’s eat!” Vaggie called towards the group of demons slowly gathering around the table. Charlie picked up a few waffles from the stack, and placed them on a few plates. 

Vaggie appeared next to her, a small plate of french toast in her grip as she too began moving around the table. 

Alastor set a large, flat dish in the middle of the table. Small toothpicks stuck out of the bacon wraps, steam wafting slowly from the interior. Nifty reached out and grabbed one, placing it on her plate.

You turned towards the pile of pancakes, grabbing a spatula to begin setting them on a separate plate before Lucifer slid beside you, watching your movements.

“I’ve got this, Darling. You go sit down.” He nudged you away from the plates, towards the table. You sent him a warm smile, before turning and taking a seat next to Sir. Pentious and Husk. 

“Saved a seat for me, did’ya?” Angel Dust smiled at Husk, before plopping down into the seat next to him. He had a large fruit bowl, a multitude of sliced colorful produce nestled together.

“Only because you’d bitch if I didn’t,” Husk replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drank from his glass. To be honest, this was the first time you saw Husk take a sip of something that wasn’t alcohol. 

Charlie lowered the large plate of remaining waffles onto the table, before brushing her hands against her apron and walking to her own seat.

“Dig in, everyone!” she exclaimed, her smile infectious as she served herself a stack of french toast.

Nifty’s eyes widened in delight as she took a bite of the bacon wrap, while Sir Pentious marveled at the designs of your handcrafted pancakes.

“Here you go, little lady.” Lucifer bowed slightly to Nifty, setting down the steaming tower of pancakes in front of her. She clapped her hands with giddy, before turning to Lucifer and giving him a pat on the cheek.

“Good boy.” She teased, before bursting into giggles.

Lucifer’s smile faltered, and he leaned back. He chuckled nervously, backing away to grab more food. He quickly walked around the table, before setting waffles onto each of the eggs boi’s plates. They licked their lips hungrily, as they stared down at the delicacy in front of them. Lucifer stood up, a hand slowly reaching behind his back.

“A good friend of mine told me you boys fancy ice cream, is that right?” He looked at Frank, who nodded his shell rapidly. Lucifer grinned cheekily, as he pulled forth a large tub of vanilla ice cream.

“Well, good thing for you, nobody said you can’t mix a little dessert with breakfast once in a while.” 

The egg bois practically went berserk seeing the holy grail of yummy deliciousness. They vibrated happily in their seats as Lucifer scooped a large glob on top of each egg’s waffles. It began to slowly melt, running across the waffles surface like syrup. 

He stepped back, as the eggs began to devour the food on their plates. Mumbling a thanks through their full mouths as Lucifer strode away, grabbing pancakes for himself.

He sat down across from you, his eyes moving from the scene around him and then on to you. He stared at you for a moment, while you were busy stuffing your face with the food on your plate. After a moment, you met his gaze. 

“Food too hot, or something? You keep staring at me.” You teased, tilting your head at him.

“It’s just hard to tear my gaze away,” he spoke, “when there is something much more delicious in front of me than the pancakes on my plate.” 

Your cheeks heated, and you averted your gaze, reaching out to grab a bacon wrap. You twisted the toothpick between your fingers, and inhaled the scent as it wafted from the small bundle.

It wasn’t too bad, and you were about to take a nibble before you saw Lucifer’s watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he only sniffled in response.

“You’re going to eat his wraps before you eat my pancakes?” He pouted, lowering his head in mock-defeat. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took a fork and cut a small piece of pancake from the rest. Taking the bacon wrap, you stabbed the other end of the toothpick through the small square. 

Lifting the bacon-pancake duo to your lips, you pulled them from the toothpick with your teeth. You swirled it in your mouth, your eyes rolling back as the flavors burst on your tongue. 

When you looked back at Lucifer, he was staring intensely at you. A smirk playing on his lips, before he sighed dramatically. 

“Now what is it?”

“Nothing.. just thinking about how that could be me.” 

You burst out laughing when those words left his lips, shocked at his sudden bluntness. Sir Pentious turned to you, giving you a look of worry as you almost choked on your food. 

After a moment, you cleared your throat. You sent Lucifer a glare for almost killing you, and he only chuckled before turning his attention from you.

Charlie, who had been sitting a few chairs away, turned to you. She smiled warmly as she spoke, “thank you for helping us with this. I really liked your butterfly pancake!”

You returned the smile, nodding your head. “It was no problem at all, I think we all deserve to have a good meal surrounded by friends. It’s you who brought us all together, so thank you.”

Charlie blushed at your words, before turning her attention back to Vaggie. Who was talking to her about an idea regarding the hotel. 

You looked around the table, taking note of the smiling faces and cheerful conversation. Alastor was helping Nifty cut some of her pancakes, his precise strikes with the knife seemed familiar to that of cutting steaks.

Sir Pentious was handing his eggs each a piece of french toast, helping them drown it in syrup as they sat there happily. Slight traces of ice cream still around their mouths.

Angel Dust and Husk were busy picking fruit from the bowl, with Angel making some kind of lude comment as he watched fruit juice dribble down Husk’s chin. Who only growled and playfully swatted at the spider-demon.

Your gaze stopped in front of you, resting on Lucifer. He had finished almost his entire plate, and now was resting his chin against his knuckles. His elbow rested against the table, and he shifted slightly to tilt his head at you. 

“Well, what do you think? Would you have preferred breakfast in bed?” He asked, taking another sip of his apple juice.

You shook your head, smiling at him. Contentedness spreads across your features as you let the food settle in your stomach. 

“No, I could get used to mornings like this,” you spoke softly. 

Lucifer nodded, his fingers reaching out to graze yours. You laced your index finger with his, and tapped his knuckles softly. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

who doesn’t enjoy some fluff about cooking with your lover? just pure fluff today, but i hope you guys enjoyed this! :)

sorry about that long wait, forgive me 🙏

taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @kottenox

[nhlclover]

RUNAWAY DOG! WILL SMITH

pairing: will smith x fem!reader

summary: your dog unexpectedly bolts on you, leading you to a loving stranger.

warnings: fluff, reader being a dog owner

word count: 1.10k

notes: i keep seeing videos of will with dogs and i can't with how obsessed he is with every dog he pets

The brisk autumn air nipped at your cheeks as you strolled down the tree-lined street, Freddie trotting beside you with his tail wagging in excitement. The colorful leaves crunched beneath your boots, their fiery oranges and reds swirling in the gentle breeze. Ever since you'd rescued Freddie, these walks had become your little sanctuary, a comforting routine that outlined your day. Twice a day, rain or shine, you two explored the neighborhood, Freddie eagerly sniffing every tree trunk and bush while you zoned out to your favorite podcasts.

But today, Freddie was different. He had more energy than usual, tugging at his leash like he was on a mission. You chuckled at first, trying to get him to slow down. “Freddie, heel,” you called gently, but your words might as well have fallen on deaf ears. His focus was laser sharp as he pulled harder, the muscles in his sturdy little body tense with anticipation. Before you could react, Freddie twisted, shook free of his collar, and took off down the sidewalk at full speed.

“Freddie!” Your heart leapt into your throat as you bolted after him, the crisp air burning in your lungs. The world blurred as you raced down the street, dodging people who stared at the sight of a panicked dog mom chasing after her runaway pup. You shouted apologies over your shoulder, but your eyes stayed locked on Freddie’s furry body, which was quickly rounding the corner.

Just as you were about to lose sight of him, you spotted Freddie barreling toward a tall stranger standing on the corner, waiting at the crosswalk. You feared the worst — what if Freddie startled him, knocked him over, or worse, ran into traffic? But as you got closer, you saw something unexpected. The guy wasn’t upset or even alarmed. He was grinning, kneeling down to Freddie’s level, offering scratches and soft words as if they were old friends.

“Hey, buddy! Who’s a good boy, huh?” the guy cooed, laughing as Freddie licked his face in delight.

You finally caught up, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you bent over, hands on your knees. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you panted, grabbing Freddie to reattach his collar. “He slipped out, and I—I—”

The blond stranger stood, towering over you but with a relaxed smile that made you feel instantly at ease. “No worries at all,” he said with a soft chuckle. “This guy is awesome. He’s adorable!” He ruffled the fur behind Freddie’s ears, and your mischievous dog melted into the touch, clearly smitten.

You glanced up at the guy, momentarily distracted by his easy charm. His grin was infectious, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made your heart skip. He had this laid-back energy about him that made you feel like maybe everything was under control after all.

You couldn’t help but smile as Freddie kept lunging back toward the stranger, desperate for more pets. “Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh. “He’s usually much better behaved, I swear. His name’s Freddie, and he’s a lab mix.”

“Freddie, huh? You’re a handsome boy, Freddie,” the guy said, still grinning as Freddie whined and pawed at him. “What kind of mix is he?”

“Lab and maybe a bit of shepherd? I rescued him, so I’m not totally sure,” you explained as you loosened your grip on his leash, allowing Freddie to trot back over to the man.

“Well, whatever he is, he’s gorgeous,” the guy said, squatting back down to give Freddie more love. Freddie, of course, leaned right into it, practically glowing with all the attention. “I’m Will, by the way,” he added, glancing up at you with a grin.

“Oh, I’m y/n,” you replied, trying not to sound too breathless. “Nice to meet you, and thanks again for not freaking out about Freddie jumping all over you.”

Will’s smile deepened as Freddie gave a playful paw, trying to get his attention back. “Looks like Freddie’s found himself a new best friend. I’m starting to think I might need to schedule playdates for him with you.”

“I can’t say that I would hate to see this cutie again,” he said, scratching a spot under his chin that elicited a groan from Freddie. Will grinned as he looked up at you from his crouched position, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I also wouldn’t hate seeing his equally cute owner again.”

Your breath caught in your throat and a warmth crept up your neck, surprised by his comment. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a grin as you looked away, suddenly feeling a bit shy under Will’s gaze.  “Well, Freddie seems pretty taken with you,” you said, your voice a little higher than you meant it to be. 

Will chuckled and stood up, dusting off his hands. “I have that effect on dogs,” he joked, before pausing, as if thinking carefully about his next words. “But… if you're up for it, maybe we could plan one of those playdates? I mean, for Freddie of course.” He smiled, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “And, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again too.”

Your stomach did a little flip, the casual charm in his voice sending a flutter through you. You nodded, still trying to maintain your composure despite the little spark of excitement you felt building. “Yeah,” you agreed, “I think Freddie would love that. And I would too.”

Will reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Great. How about I give you my number, and we can set something up?”

You fumbled with your phone, unlocking it and handing it to him with a nervous laugh. “Here, you can just put it in.”

He quickly typed his number into your phone, then handed it back with a smile. “There. Just shoot me a text whenever you and Freddie want to hang out.”

“Will do,” you replied, grinning as you pocketed your phone.

Will knelt down one last time to ruffle Freddie’s ears. “See you soon, little guy.” Then, standing up, he shot you a sly smirk. “And you too.”

As he turned and walked away, Freddie tugged at his leash, trying to follow. You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to soothe him. “I know, bud,” you murmured. “He seems great, doesn’t he?”

As you started walking again, your heart still fluttering, you couldn’t help but think how unexpected this whole encounter had been. Who would’ve guessed your rambunctious dog, the one who never seemed to behave on walks, would turn out to be such a good wingman?

[mothduchess]

Kitsune HRT Part 1

There was a light shower accompanied by the gentle pitter patter of daylight, the sky untarnished by any cloud or dreariness. The earth was laid bare to a dance of shadows and puddles as light fluttered about the scene, parading through the golden leaves and across the white bark that rivulets of water meandered down. The forest was quiet; no bird song or noise pollution, not a rustle or even a buzzing. Yet the wind was there. The scent of roses that drifted with its whispers was carried through the towering woods that seemed to stretch forever. But in these woods there would be a grotto of tall grass and the most lovely of flowers, roses of such amazing hues that the petals did rise in celebration. In the middle of the grotto there was a stump whose rings numbered in the hundreds and branches curled up high like eager hands. The light wreathed the field in shining gold. And sitting upon this stump atop a nest of pristine cloth bedding was a creature of fur with reddened fur and black. Her tails curled around her graceful legs all draped in shining white and colorful silks. Her fur rustled with the breeze, speckled with crumbs from flaky pastries. Other creatures sat around her enjoying tea and cakes aplenty. Dainty fingers were stained with strawberries and peaches as petals lightly fell around the party. The bears and the wolves were cloaked in mantles of cloud and a frog drank gold from a saucer. Wordless chatter curled throughout the party. The vixen sat prominently with legs curled under her and eyes squeezed upwards. With grace, onto her snout curled a silver smile that broke with heavenly laughter. Laughter and Smiles. Echoing, and curling, off into a grey distance. Sleep fell off ungracefully thudding onto the hardwood as only a boulder could. I groaned with my eyes screwed shut. I peeled from the sheets and rubbed the crustings from my eyes. Those pale blue eyes and the blunted nails with chipping nail polish. Pale grey light oozed through the broken blinds as morning made itself known. But as I laid half swaddled in sheets, surrounded by plush toys, my only thoughts could go to her smile. Her laughter. All I could muster was a frown as I conjured forth my energy to rise from the bed as cotton foxes and other creatures watched. "...That was a nice dream." My nails dragged across the flesh of my arms leaving red marks that sat across older such markings. I yawned and stretched, sliding my phone into my hands from the place it fell the previous night. I turned on videos as wakefulness slowly drew itself together. "That was the fifth time this month already. They've been getting worse," I thought. A sigh escaped my lips as I dead scrolled through social media. "How can anyone focus like this?" At that moment I saw posts come into view. Over the past year or so, a new kind of medicine had hit the stage, but all of the new drugs were filed under a singular umbrella: "Humanity Removal Therapy". Pictures of people showing scales and growing to a gigantic heights, tails, claws, horns, all kinds of new body parts. I even saw people become human or things stranger than any typical animal. I was slackjawed. I had heard of the medicine, surely. But to see so many people more get onto it, I couldn't do anything but stare at the screen with legs pulled into my torso. Cows. Dragons. Fish. "It's that effective?" I begun to get dressed. It wasn't as if I'd never taken such a leap before. Estrogen was what gave me my chest and lower proportions. It didn't do everything I could have hoped for, of course not, but it was something! I was happier. It was... "Something like from a dream." I sat there upon my knees for minutes. The phantom sensations of a bundle of tails drifted behind me, the ethereal fur almost taunting me. At first I wondered if I was allowed to have it. Then, thoughts of money. I had so little, could I afford the many months? But the idea of those dreams haunting me for years and years on wrenched my gut into a spiral. I couldn't live like that. I couldn't.

When I sat at my computer, I pulled up a tab to begin researching. After a moment's hesitation, I pulled open another window. "Kitsune Transition: Week 1."

------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thank you so much for reading! And huge shout out to @ ayviedoesthings and all of the other people who have made Animal HRT art. It helped us figure out that we were therian, and we're making that to express the feelings we've had in our head. Will be posting more over time!

FIRST NEXT>

[velvetm00light]

Peace

photos: pinterest dividers: @benkeibear, @mariariley, @haerinism

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Y/n's dog tackles a handsome stranger in Central Park. As her and the stranger spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other, they part too soon and without even telling each other their names. The solution appears quickly in the form of a handsome, lanky man appearing at her apartment the next morning.

Warnings: fluff!!!! pretty much it i think

A/N: I accidentally posted this on my primary that I don't use a few days ago so I decided to just reupload it here. Thought ya'll deserved a cute one. <3 Enjoy!!!

THE GOLDEN LEAVES RUSTLED along the cracked sidewalk, towering mixtures of trees loomed overhead, their branches reaching for each other, the Creation of Adam painting itself in the nature around her. Her charcoal boots thudded lightly, the sound overtaken by the rush of bicycles and the flutter of passing conversations as she strolled through Central Park. The leash in her hand was rough against her soft palms. The dog at her side trotted happily, smiling at the strangers rushing past. 

As a native to New York, the city specifically, she made a habit of spending most of the daylight she could spare exploring the park. A habit that proved almost impossible to break because no matter how many times her feet walked the same sidewalk, her eyes took in the same leaves in all seasons - lush green in the spring and summer, amber and fiery red in the autumn, and withered and crunchy spread across the sidewalks and grass in the winter - there was no where else she could truly feel peace. 

Peace has been a complicated thing to find her entire life. As soon as she felt it in her grasp, it became sand slipping through the cracks between her fingers before she could even close her fist in an attempt to capture as much as she could. But, that sand turned into the soft wool of her favorite coat as she pulled it tighter around her in an attempt to warm herself. Peace became tangible the moment she threw her coat on, strapped on her pup’s harness, and made her way to her safe place.

She was snapped out her thoughts by a sudden yank on her arm, the soft grip on the leash in her hand gave way before she could consider tightening her hand. Her gaze snapped to her now sprinting pup, heading in the direction of a red maple tree just a few yards to the right of the trail they had been walking. She didn’t allow herself time for confusion on why her normally calm and behaved pup had randomly chosen to run off. 

Her lungs burned as cold air pressed into her lungs as she ran in the same direction. Her confusion only grew when she neared the maple to see her dog bouncing onto a man sitting against the trunk of the tree, a thick blanket underneath him and the book in his hands flung into the grass. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She called, slowing her speed as she reached the poor man who was just tackled by her dog. “He’s never done that before.” 

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, his hands gliding along his fur, accepting the sloppy kisses attacking his face. “I love dogs.”

She grabbed his book from the dewy grass and laid it on the blanket next to him. “I’m so sorry about your book, it got kind of wet. I’ll give you the money for it,” she apologized, reaching into the pack strapped across her chest to rummage for any loose cash. 

“Don’t worry about it, my books are definitely worse for wear normally.” His smile was bright, contagious. A smile crept up on her face, the corners of her lips tugging insistently upward as her hands abandoned her pack. 

“Are you sure? I can totally pay you for it. My dog is the reason it got wet.”

“I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.”

The cover of the book she had laid on his blanket was in fact worse for wear. It was curled up at the edges as if this wasn’t the first time it had gotten wet. The spine was so cracked the book almost splayed open just laying on the blanket, the wind a gentle hand trying to pull it fully open. 

“I’m glad someone else’s copy of The Fisher King looks similar to mine.” She smiled, her eyes lingering on the blemished book then to his face. Her dog had finally calmed down, splayed next to the stranger with his belly up. He ran slender fingers up and down her pup’s belly. 

The first thing that caught her eye was his eyes. There was a flaming halo of amber, with a dirty, leather brown inside. His eyes reminded him of an old leather book - worn with love, pen marks torn through the pages with passion. The sweater vest he was wearing and the circular glasses that sat upon the bridge of his nose established her thought - he just looked like he belonged in a library, reaching for outdated texts, sitting in a poorly lit corner, stacks of books hiding his bowed head from view as he endlessly read books upon books for hours. 

His eyes had widened at her statement about his book. “You’ve read The Fisher King?” 

She laughed lightly, “Do I not seem like the studious type?” 

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He smiled up at her from his spot on the blanket. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who had even heard of it before.”

“Good thing I’m not just anyone.”

He nodded lightly at this, the corner of his lips tugging up so far she thought his jaw might start to hurt. 

“I personally like Shadowlands better,” she teased. It wasn’t a lie, however. She had always been a sucker for romances - it certainly raised her standards unrealistically, but it’s not her fault fictional men are so much better than real ones. “And you can never go wrong with Les Misérables but it feels cliché to say that’s my favorite.” 

His smile reached his dancing eyes. His fingers still rubbed at her dogs belly almost subconsciously. “You’ve got good taste in books,” he says finally. 

“I guess I could say the same for you. Mind if I sit? Since my dog seems insistent on staying here the rest of the day.” 

“I don’t mind at all, have a seat.” He pulled his legs up, sitting cross legged instead of stretched out like he had been. She copied his posture as she plopped down on the blanket with him and her attention whore of a dog - understandably, because if she had seen him first, she might’ve just ran over and demanded he touch her too. 

“Who’s your favorite author?” She asked, placing her elbow ontop of her knee and resting her chin in her hand. She titled her head to the side, and his smile returned slightly at the image of her - innocent and sweet. 

“I could probably list about fifteen.” 

“Pick one,” she chuckled. 

“Thomas Merton, probably. I’ve got a soft spot for his poetry.” 

“Love is our true destiny,” she began. His eyes sparkled as he joined in on her recitement from Love and Living. “We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another.” 

“You really are perfect, huh?” He smiled. Resting his head on the bark behind him, his gaze never leaving hers, and the relentless smile still plastered on his face. 

“Your words, not mine.” She smiled back, it was impossible not to smile back at him. She felt like the only person in the entire world when he smiled at her, like she was truly the only thing that mattered. A heat bloomed in her neck and rose into her wind-kissed cheeks. She hoped the cold prick of the wind rubbing her cheeks raw hid the redness heating her face. 

Their conversation about literature continued, both of them talking animatedly and rushed, as if the amount of time they had with each other would never be enough. It was a shocking revelation for them both to realize how much in common they had and how effortlessly the conversation between them flowed, like they weren’t really strangers at all. 

The sun had begun to set, laying over the horizon as if slowing it’s own process down to give them just a little bit longer. The chill had picked up as the sunlight turned into dusk but neither of them really noticed until the park was empty and hungry whines escaped her dog. 

“I didn’t even realize we had talked for so long,” she said, a laugh escaping her lips. She just felt so…at peace. Sitting here with him. 

“Honestly, me either.” He gave her a sweet smile back and a shrug. Unspoken words hung on his lips, but he decided not to voice them. 

“I suppose I should get going,” she started, standing up from the blanket she had sat on for hours, her joints and muscles protesting against the sudden movement. 

“Let me walk you home.” 

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“Thank you.”

The stranger gathered his blanket and his book, shoving both in between his arm, following her lead out of the park and towards her apartment. Her teeth chattered so harshly it rattled her skull. The sun had set, becoming impatient waiting for them to finally part. 

Without a word, the man her dog had jumped on just a few hours ago unwrapped the blanket from under his arm and laid it across her shoulders. “It might be a little dirty but I put the upside on you.” 

“Thank you, my jacket has seen better days anyway,” she smiled, pulling the thick wool around her, engulfing her like a hug. She sighed of relief at the warmth it provided her chilled bones. They walked in easy silence, sneaking occasional glances at each other when the other wasn’t looking. 

He was the first one to break the silence. “Have you always lived in the city?”

“Mostly. I grew up just outside of the city but it’s close enough. You don’t look like you grew up in the city,” she teased. Her dog trotting beside her sleepily but eager to get home for dinner. Her grumbling stomach agreed with her dog’s eagerness. 

He laughed lightly, “You’re not wrong. I’m from Las Vegas.” 

“Wow! That’s really cool actually. I’ve never been out West. Why did you come here?”

“I was tired of it, long story short. But I’ve always loved being in a city, being able to walk mostly everywhere I want to go, the sense of community.” 

“Unfortunately, most New Yorkers have no idea what the words community or kindness mean.”

He laughed, nodding in agreement. His laugh was just like his smile - infectious. If he laughed, anyone around him wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from laughing along even if nothing was funny. When he laughed hard, his eyes fluttered shut and he tipped his head back slightly. When he laughed lightly, he had small wrinkles at the side of his eyes, and he always had that toothy grin. It startled her to realize that in the few hours she knew him, she already knew this much about his mannerisms. 

Too soon, they reached her apartment building’s door. She fished out her keys from her pack, her pup pushing his head up to the door, ready to kick it down if he had human legs. “Thank you so much again for walking me home. I hope you’re not too far, it’s pretty dark out now.” 

“It was no problem, I wanted to make sure you made it safe. Don’t worry about me, I might not look like it but I can put up a fight.”

She smiled at him because he was right. His lanky frame and nerdy look in fact made him look like he didn’t even know how to throw a punch, but who was she to make judgements?

The door unlocked with a click. “Hopefully, we’ll meet again soon,” she smiled, handing him his blanket and heading inside the foyer of her apartment building. 

She plopped onto the couch in her cramped living room and let out a sigh she had no idea she was holding in. Then the realization hit her, she didn’t even ask for his name or how to contact him. She groaned. Of course she would be stupid enough to let the only guy she’s had a connection with in years slip through her fingers. 

The rising sun shone through her living room curtains, spilling like honey over her face. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion fogging her brain for a moment. She must have fallen asleep on the couch though she wasn’t sure when she even fell asleep. A book laid open, splayed on the hardwood floor next to her couch. This is a familiar scene she sees way more often than she’s willing to admit. There’s no greater way to relax than to read a good book in ambient lighting. It had started raining shortly after she got home last night, the hard patters of rain drops hitting her window. That was enough to cause her to pass out before even finishing a chapter.

She was abruptly snapped out of her daze as her intercom buzzed. Her confusion deepened, completely unsure if she was expecting anyone this morning or if she had overslept and missed a meeting. When the second buzz rang through her apartment, she rushed over to answer it. “Hello?” She said sleepily.

“Hi, I’m sorry uh..I’m the guy your dog tackled in the park yesterday.” If she could see his face, she’s pretty sure he’d have a nervous smile on it. His hand running anxiously through his curls, hoping he buzzed the right apartment and desperately hoping she didn’t feel uncomfortable at him showing up. 

“Oh! Hi! Sorry, come on up. I’m in apartment 3B.” She groaned as she realized he probably already knew that, considering he had buzzed her apartment. 

She buzzed him in quickly and realized the state she was in. She rapidly ran her fingers through her knotted hair, combing through as many knots as she could in the time it took him to reach her front door. She straightened her clothes, the same ones she had gone to the park in minus the coat hanging by her front door. She rushed over to pick up the book from the floor, setting it gently on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. 

A soft knock rattled her front door and she rushed over to it, fixing her hair and clothes again before pulling it open. “Hi,” she breathed, her chest suddenly too tight. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, he was the one who showed up to her apartment. 

“Hi,” he responded, a sheepish smile tugging up the corner of his lips. His hands were shoved into his coat pockets, as if to keep himself from fidgeting in front of her, a feign of confidence. “Sorry for showing up randomly.” He finished quickly, realizing she was waiting for him to explain himself.

“It’s okay, to be fair I did let you walk me home. If I thought you came to kill me you wouldn’t be standing here.” 

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. She stepped aside and motioned for him to come inside. He didn’t hesitate to step through the threshold and take in her apartment while she shut the door behind him. 

“Your apartment is beautiful, it feels like nature but home.”

“Oh, thank you. That’s actually the best compliment I’ve ever gotten,” she smiled, gazing around her apartment with him. She had a variety of plants scattered around her apartment - large potted plants that reached toward the ceiling in the corners, small plants in decorated pots lining shelves, settled on her coffee table, and even in her kitchen. She always assumed having fresh air to combat the natural stench of New York City was never a bad idea. She had posters and picture frames hung up with precision, decorative throw pillows scattered on her couch from a night tossing and turning, bookshelves filled to the brim with books, plants, and trinkets. 

“Make yourself at home,” she said, intending for him to sit on the couch while she made them…tea? She wasn’t really sure what kind of expectations she had as a host. “Do you like tea?”

“Love it.” 

“Perfect.” She rummaged through her cabinets in search for tea, it would be slightly embarrassing to have run out of tea bags after she already asked if he wanted tea. Thankfully, she found a few loose boxes of tea and made steaming cups for them both. 

She carried the tea out carefully so as to not burn herself or spill any on the floor beneath her bare feet. She gently handed him his cup which he gratefully took and cupped between two palms, waiting for it to cool. 

She settled in the seat next to him on the couch, copying his actions and cupping the warm cup between her hands. Her apartment luckily didn’t feel like the outside world with the biting wind and the bone-chilling cold, but, this man’s presence was enough to send a shiver rattling down her spine and goosebumps rising along her flesh. 

“Thank you for the tea,” he smiled, delicately blowing on his tea to quicken up the cooling process. 

“Of course, I’m sure any normal host would offer tea, it felt like the socially acceptable thing to do.” She gave him a small smile back, just enough to lift the edges of her lips upward, but not enough to bare her teeth. 

Her brain still felt rattled at the fact that this stranger she had only met around 24 hours ago had remembered where she lived and showed up to her apartment. 

They both took ginger sips of the steaming tea before setting their respective cups on the coffee table. “It’s delicious.”

“Thank you, I don’t make tea often but I’m glad I’m still good at it.”

He chuckled lightly and the sound reverberated around her apartment. Her mind betrayed her and thoughts of that laugh just swimming around her apartment on a regular basis caused an ache in her chest. She hadn’t had a man in her apartment in probably years, most likely for the best. 

Her work was her life, she had the terrible habit of drowning in her work when life got rough, or when her feelings got inevitably hurt. She almost wanted to kick this gorgeous man out of her apartment before he could hurt her feelings or disappoint her like the rest. 

“I’m sorry for showing up randomly,” he started, rubbing his sweaty palms across the legs of his jeans. “I never got your name or your contact information so I hope I’m not crossing any lines by coming by.”

Despite her better judgment, a smile grew on her face. It really was sweet. 

“It’s okay, I’m just surprised.”

“Understandably. I just couldn’t let you slip by,” He said shyly. He grabbed his tea cup again, an attempt to still his fidgeting fingers. 

Her breath hitched in her throat. Her mind swam as she attempted to push back her assumptions. It wasn’t every day that a random stranger showed up at her door, a handsome one at that. 

She realized she must have been staring wide-eyed at him because he chuckled softly. “I’m sorry if that was a little too forward.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay. I just- What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his chestnut curls, the other gripped onto the tea cup like his life depended on it. “I just-I’ve never been able to talk to someone like that.”

She nodded slowly - she knew exactly what he meant. She had thought the same thing as she sat on her couch just hours ago, turning the events of their meeting over and over again in head, as if it was a coin in her hand. 

“It was just…easy. Peaceful.” He smiled sheepishly. She relaxed into the couch. Peace. It was all she ever wanted in life and she tried tirelessly to keep control of it, to stuff it in a cage and keep it locked up so she could never feel its absence again. With him sitting in her apartment in front of her, she felt like she didn’t even have to try to reach out and grab it, it ran into her arms like a friend. 

“I thought the same thing,” she admitted as she fought a smile rising on her lips. The man in front of her didn’t try to hide his relief or the upturn of the corner of his lips. 

“That’s relieving.”

“Agreed.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, both in a daze. “I guess we should do a proper greeting this time,” he suggested, holding out his hand in front of her. 

She took it with a grin. “Hi, I’m y/n.”

“Hi y/n, I’m Spencer.”

[nightmare-of-homophobes]

Anything Goes ~ Reno Sweeney x f!reader

Warnings: drinking; smut; sex with a strange; strangers to lovers; fingering (Reno receiving); oral sex (reader receiving); mirrors; slow burn(?); misuse of "anything goes" songs; probably annoyingly ooc (idc); no established period; ignores the cannon; hints of bdsm and corruption kink; maybe lightly hints of religion kink but y'all are not ready for this conversation and I didn’t dive into it so let’s all ignore it; no beta reader; and Carol's reference.

Words: 4,7k (more or less)

Tag list: @confuseuniverse ( @jubshead @yourbasicqueerie @kenzie-floops, in case you guys aren't interested in being in my tag list please let me know)

It’s my first work in months and English isn’t my first language, so be nice leaving comments! Xoxo!

***

That night was supposed to be just one more cold, boring and lonely night, hadn’t your friends asked you to come with them to a new bar, where - they told you - would have some good drink and very good music since a rising singer would be singing there that night. Always trusting your friends to not let you down on your nights out, you put on your best trousers and a long-sleeved shirt and accompanied them.

The bar was a bit hidden, but you were able to find it. It was a rustic but comfy place, like some old tavern adorned with fairy lights and curtains of silk. It felt like entering another land. One where you could rest and forget your problems.

– So… Who is this rising star we came to see? – you asked once you and your friends were settled down on a table in a corner. The bar wasn’t that crowded and the table was close enough to the stage, so you could still have a clear view of it.

– Her name is Reno Sweeney, if I remember it right. – one of your friends, Hope, told you. – She has been doing shows in the bars around the city and it’s starting to get some attention.

– Reno Sweeney? – you repeated the name, tasting the name. It was a good name, one that you weren’t used to. – Have any of you actually heard her singing?

– No, but you know… There’s always a first time. – Billy, Hope’s boyfriend, said while wiggling his brows. You just rolled your eyes, amused with his attitude.

You all had some drinks before the light on the room started to dim and someone announced the great attraction of the night:

– Ladies and gents, I would like you to welcome our guest star, the woman who had been stealing hearts around town with her seductive voice and tempting looks… Reno Sweeney!

Everyone in the bar applauded as a woman went up on stage. The woman was slim and elegant, dressed on a shiny dress with a slit while a faux fur scarf hung around her naked shoulders. All in white tones… Just as some ghostly (or angelic) vision. The only different color she was wearing was on her lips: dark red lips.

Like a forbidden fruit that few would be able to taste.

– She's gorgeous! – Evelyn, by your side, exclaimed.

– Yes… – you breathlessly agreed. – She is.

When the applauses ceased, the woman spoke seductively, her voice soft as a breeze:

– It's good to be here with all of you tonight… – her smile was charming and playful. – The night is a child, my friends, and I'm certainly just starting. – she winked at the crowd.

As the band started playing, Reno Sweeney started to sway gently to the melody before the first verses finally let her mouth. The hair on the back of your neck immediately raised up at the sound of her singing, her words dripping from her lips like honey. Sweet and, oh, so dense. You just couldn't rip your eyes off her.

It was clear tha the moment she started to sing, the bar became hers… And you were afraid you had become hers too.

***

As the night went on and the drinks were drained by your group, you felt yourself getting lighter. When Evelyn asked you to dance, you quickly accepted the offer, playfully assuming the guiding role of the dance - to what he didn't complain at all.

As Reno's gentle voice sang “La Vie En Rose” in the background, you led Evelyn to the dance floor. Couples started to join you and the singer’s attention turned to it, smiling at your playfully behavior as she spotted the two of you in the crowd, dancing through the couples in reversed roles.

You felt nervous as you met her eyes at some point through the dancing, her sassy attitude never faltering as she smirked and winked at you.

(Well, it could've been - and it would make more sense if it was - to Evelyn, but you got yourself hoping that it was to you.)

When the music ended, Reno chuckled maliciously.

– Look at all of us here on a Saturday night… – she started. – Dare I say, we got the behaviour of a bunch of sinners. – she stood up from the little stool she was and gestured towards the people at the bar. Her smile never disappearing. – And since we're a bunch of sinners and mass is only tomorrow morning, I'm afraid I will have to take the burden of guiding you to the light tonight. – signaling to the band, she finished her discourse. – Ladies and gentlemen, we are here tonight to fight the devil… But, of course, we'll do it in the best of styles, so I hope y'all help me by accompanying me in this dance.

As she finished talking, a lively jazz began to play as Reno began to sing about the angel Gabriel. Only that woman could sing a gospel in such a sinful way and yet entertain people who clearly didn't go to the church assiduously.

As she sang excitedly, she left the stage to swing among the people, interacting with tables before getting on the dance floor, dancing with some guys in her way before getting to Evelyn and you.

– Once I was headed for hell… Once I was headed for hell! – she took Evelyn from you, spinning him around just how you've done with him during your dancing. – But when I got to Satan's door, I heard you blowin’ on your horn once more… – she let Evelyn so she could take your hand on hers and spin you too, holding onto your waist after she did it. – So I said, “Satan, farewell!”. – she sang the verse close to your face, making your cheeks burn.

As she let you go and slid across the dance floor back to the stage, you stood frozen at your tracks. Evelyn chuckled at your reaction as he returned to you.

– What the fuck just happened?! – the words blurted out of your mouth as you looked at him.

– I don't know but you got her attention, sweetie! – he said in a singing tone and bumped his hips against yours. – Oh, God, someone pinch me, did we just dance with Reno Sweeney?! – he freaked out a bit.

– WE DID! – I freaked out with him and we laughed our asses out before going to the bar to get a drink.

As Evelyn discussed something about his drink with one of the bartenders, I called another one and asked:

– Could you send one of these to Miss Sweeney? – I pointed down to my own drink. A minty cherry cocktail.

– I could try. – the guy said. – But she hasn't accepted any of the drinks people tried to buy her tonight.

With that, the man caught the attention of one of the waiters and sent them out to ask the singer if she would want the drink. You watched as the man approached her during the break between songs and whispered in her ear, gesturing to the bar.

She gazed at you and you, not knowing what to do, waved shyly at her. She smirked at you while tilting an eyebrow before facing the waiter and saying something to him.

You waited anxiously as they got back.

– She will want a Cosmo instead of the cherry cocktail. – the man informed, waiting for the drink so he could take it back to the woman at the stage.

You smiled to yourself with that and watched when she accepted the drink. She looked at you again and raised her drink subtly at you, to which you answered by raising your own at her direction.

– Seems like you're a lucky one. – the bartender said to you, watching the interaction.

You just chuckled and paid for the drinks.

***

The bar was slowly getting empty and Evelyn was drunk at this point of the night. Billy and Hope were getting disgustingly tactile towards each other and you were in the best of moods.

– I think we should get going… – Hope said after annoyingly letting out a chuckle because Billy was kissing her neck. – Are you coming with us?

– No, you can go… – you said. – I want to see the end of it. – you gestured to the stage.

Billy stood up with Hope and they both took Evelyn with them.

– Good luck, dude! – Billy said as they started making their way out of the bar.

As Reno announced the last song, a man approached your table:

– Excuse me… – you looked at him confused since you didn't know him. – I couldn't help but notice your dancing partner left you and I really want to dance so… Do you fancy a last dance?

You frowned slightly but nodded anyway, quickly standing up. The man didn't seemed harmful at all, so why not?

– Just don't try any funny business. – you warned him, to which he raised his hands in redemption.

– No funny business! – the man agreed.

As Reno's voice flooded the place, you claimed the dancefloor with the stranger. Now there were few people in the bar and most of them were too drunk to know their own name.

The man was gentle and respectful, leading the dance but still giving you some space. While swaying around with the guy, you couldn't shake off that feeling that someone was staring at you - that light pressure nugging at the back of your head and making you feel warmed.

As you looked back to the stage, your eyes locked with Reno’s.

In olden days, a glimpse of stocking

Was looked on as something shocking

But now, God knows

Anything goes

Good authors too who once knew better words

Now only use four-letter words

Writing prose

Anything goes

She sang the verses seductively, never breaking eye contact. You felt your breath hitch.

If driving fast cars you like

If low bars you like

If old hymns you like

If bare limbs you like

If Mae West you like

Or me undressed you like

Why, nobody will oppose

When ev'ry night the set that's smart is in-

Truding in nudist parties in

Studios

Anything goes…

Anything goes

As she finished her show, the man thanked you for the dance.

– This was fun… – he said. – Maybe we could repeat this on another occasion…? – he asked unsure.

You were about to dismiss his offer, when the silky voice rang behind you.

– Excuse me, but can I borrow the lady for a moment?

You felt a shiver run down your spine, so you quickly dismissed the man:

– I'm sorry… – he just nodded politely and you turned around to face the ginger woman again.

– I don't think I caught your name, sweetie… – Reno said, invading your personal space to hold onto your shoulders.

***

The woman's lips clashed against yours in the hall as she used her body to trap you on the wall. After thanking you for the drink and doing some small talk, Reno invited you to her place, which wasn't that far from the bar, to grab some more drinks and talk, so you accepted the offer.

Yet, she clearly had other plans in her mind.

When you both were out of breath, she stepped back so she could find her key and finally open her room’s door. Once you were inside it, she pushed you back against the wall, her hands going to the back of your neck as she smiled with desire.

– You're beautiful… – she said with honesty, making your heart flutter. You weren't used to being complimented.

– If I'm beautiful, then what are you? – I asked breathlessly. – An angel flung out of heaven?

She chuckled amused, leaning into you again as if to kiss you, but stopping to speak against your lips:

– What does this make me? – her voice sent heat straight to your core. – A demon? – you were about to say that wasn't what you meant when she brushed her lips in a way to your ear to whisper. – I liked it.

Those three words almost made you whimper and you had to shut your eyes tight. You would certainly need to go to church after that night.

Holding onto her waist, you brought your mouth to her jaw, kissing and licking a way to her left shoulder while slowly unzipping her strapless dress - sometimes you even dared to softly bite her milky skin, feeling more confident once you noticed she wouldn't prevent you from it.

When you were about to pull her dress down, she escaped from your hands and mouth, a playful smirk on her face as she held the fabric while throwing off her fur scarf. Sitting on the bed with fluid movements, she stared at you - waiting.

– You first. – she said, her tone deep and sultry.

Swallowing hard, you started undoing your buttons. First you undid the trousers, quickly taking it off with your shoes. Then, as you started to undo the shirt, she gestured with one of her finger for you to come closer.

She slipped off her dress as you walked to the bed. Laying down while pulling you with her, she finished your work before throwing your shirt on the ground, her cheeks a bit flushed as she found herself under your weight - your hands placed at the sides of her head to support you.

At that moment, reality hit you. You had a sexy and talented woman under you. But she was a complete stranger.

– We know nothing about each other… – you commented softly.

– Does it bother you? – she asked in a tone as soft as yours, one of her hands was holding gently at your neck as the other caressed your side, tickling you a bit.

– Not at all… – you answered. – But I would like to know more about you.

She held your gaze and bit down on her lip. The lipstick was smudged and you knew your lips, face and neck were covered in that exactly tone of red.

– Well, then ask me before my mouth is too busy to answer. – she whispered tauntingly, making you close your eyes and the butterflies in your stomach twist crazily.

– Reno Sweeney is your real name, or is it an artistic name? – you asked, sitting down at her thighs.

She sat herself too, holding onto your back so she could kiss and bite your clavicle.

– My real name. – she murmured against your skin. – My turn… Do you live in this city, or are you just visiting?

– I live here… – you gasped as she licked from your clavicle to your jaw. – Uhh… How old are you?

She leaned back for a moment to wink at you.

– A lady never reveals her age. – she dived back into work. – Have you done this before? I mean… With a woman?

– Yes. – your breath hitched as she unclasped your bra and took it off. – You?

– Yes… – she took your breasts in her hands. – How old are you?

– 20. – her hands froze for a second and you looked down at her, worried. – Any problem?

– Not at all… You're just younger than I thought. – she said and you watched how she kissed your nipples, feeling yourself get more soaked at every passing second.

– Too young for you?

– As long as you have age to consent… – she licked one of your nipples. – It won't be a problem for me. – latching her lips on it, she lifted her gaze to meet yours eyes.

You lost any rational thought at that sight and a whimper fell from your lips. Throwing yourself back on her, you kissed passionately, holding onto her tight as you unconsciously started rocking your heat against her thigh.

When her tongue teased your mouth, you promptly opened it for her, letting her taste once more the cocktails you had earlier. She also tasted like alcohol, but with hints of sweet and sour that you recognized from that cosmopolitan.

It didn't take long for her to reach between your legs and start rubbing your clit with her thumb, making you gasp slightly against her lips. You took a sharp breath when, putting your panties to the side, she slipped her fingers through your wet folds.

– Gosh, you're soaked… You probably have been wet since I climbed on that stage, haven't you? – she provoked you, bringing her fingers to your clit to lubricate it.

A small moan left your lips as your forehead rested against hers. Your eyes were closed again and when you opened them it was only to be met with Reno's big brown ones staring up at you in desire and admiration. You almost moaned again at that sight.

Rocking your hips against her hand and thigh, Reno built for you a gentle rhythm as she went back to your chest, playing with your nipples into her mouth or free hand, taking rounds between pinching, licking, sucking and biting them. Making you a total mess for her since her busy fingers on your clit were working at a pace that didn't satisfy you at all.

– Reno… – you whimpered her name, feeling so frustrated you could cry if she didn't give you what you wanted. – Please…

You felt her smirk against your breast before raising her head to look at you.

– What is it, darling? – she asked in an innocent tone, pretending to be clueless to your needs.

– Faster, please… – you begged her, your hands holding at her shoulders with such force you would certainly leave marks.

– What? I don't think I understood you, darling… – she said with a smug smile on her face, her eyes twinkling with malice as she slowed even more the pace of her fingers.

You groaned irritated and looked down at her with a begging expression.

– Please, Reno, don't tease me like this. – you hold her face in your hands, panting softly against her lips.

You watched as her eyes darkened even more and she let out a low, throaty humm at your request.

– I love the way you say my name… – she said before catching your lips again, lying you down on the bed so she could have her way with you.

Feeling her kissing a way from your lips to your belly, you almost couldn't hold yourself from buckling and whining as a slut, trying - not so subtly - to get her attention to where you needed her the most.

– Please, please, please… – the soft pleading left your mouth as if it was your personal mantra, which made her very satisfied.

– Since you're asking so well… – she muttered before diving between your legs, a loud and obscene moan leaving your mouth as she did it.

Her tongue circled your clit slowly and lightly before flattening it against you, pressuring down deliciously so you had no option but to throw your head back on the mattress and tangle your fingers on her perfect red locks. Losing your head as a strain of curses fell from your lips.

– Do I have such power on you or are you always this needy? – she mocked you before licking, very slowly, from your entrance to your clit, sucking it hard as she reached it.

She released your clit with a loud pop and your hips quivered under her. You were so sensitive for her at that point.

– You'll have to fuck me in another occasion to discover… – you answered without even noticing, making her laugh.

– Maybe I'll do it… – she answered before bringing her lips to your clit again as she slipped a finger inside you. You were so wet it didn't have any resistance.

As she resumed her sucking, her finger built a rhythm that made you feel both satisfied but in need of more at the same time. And you let her know it.

– Put another one… Please. – for your surprise, she didn't tease you, just obeyed. Her brows were furrowed from being so focused on bringing you to your climax.

You were an unashamed mess. Face hid on the pillow, fingers tightly holding ginger locks, mouth opened, chest rising and falling heavily, cheeks warm, belly tense, erratic hips and trembling legs.

You were at the edge of your orgasm.

Reno, of course, had noticed all of that and was giving her best to ruin you. Twirling her fingers inside you, she found that spot that almost made you scream from pleasure and flattened her tongue again against you, letting you grind onto her mouth as she kept hitting that spot inside you.

Your hips stuttered as an intense wave of pleasure crossed your body and your mind went blank as you shut your eyes tightly.

When the pleasure subsided and you returned to your senses, you realized you still were holding Reno buried between your legs, so you let her go, watching her pull her fingers out of you while choking to catch her breath.

– I'm so sorry, did I hurt you? – you asked her with worry in your voice.

Her only answer, though, was to throw herself back on your lips, kissing you fervently as she straddled your hips, making you taste yourself on her tongue.

When both of you ran out of air, you separated yourselves, a strain of saliva still hanging between your mouths, connecting you two as you breathed the same air.

She didn't give you time to recover at all before she was grinding against your belly and whispering on your mouth:

– I'm so wet for you… – you groaned at her attitude, which just made her grind harder down onto you. – What are you going to do about it?

Sitting straight while still catching your breath, you averted your eyes from hers for a second and an object, in the corner of the room, ended up catching your attention.

– Nice mirror you have there… – you said to her, your mind already turning its gears.

– Fuck, I'm practically jumping at your lap and your attention is on my mirror? – she complained, shaking her ass on your lap.

You chuckled and took her off your lap, going to the mirror. It was a full size mirror and you replaced it in front of the bed.

– What are you doing, come back, darling… – she said seductively, spreading herself temptingly on the bed.

– Wait a minute, you're going to like this, I swear… – you said and adjusted the mirror. – Sit against the headboard of the bed… Can you see your reflex well? – you asked as you watched her obey your request.

– Hmm… a bit to the left. – she guided you. – Enough, yes, now it's perfect. What are we going to do? 

Returning to the bed, you seated beside her and told her:

– Sit in front of me.

Lifting an eyebrow, she smirked, understanding what you were leading to. As you spread your legs and she sat between them, you pulled her body flush against yours.

– Now… Where were we? – you muttered under your breath, letting your hands slide down her body to reach her knees and spread them widely, putting your legs above hers so she was under your mercy. – Your stockings are so soft… – you whispered against her ear, watching through the mirror how she tilted her head to the side, her lips parting as you were running your hands along the stockings. – I wonder if your panties are as soft as them...

Her breath hitched under that comment and you smirked against her neck, letting your right hand wander to her core, feeling how she tensed up the closer you got to it.

Starting to rub her through her panties you used your other hand to pull her bra down and to the side, just enough so her breasts were free from it. Squeezing them and pressing her clit, you were very satisfied to have her getting impatient on your hands.

One of her hands went to the back of your neck while the other held onto your wrist, her breathing getting labored as you put her panties to the side and collected some of her juices with your fingers, before taking them to your own lips to taste her.

– Hmm… So sweet. – you said and heard the small whimper that fell from her as she watched you, through the mirror, lick her juices off your fingers. – Do you want to taste it too?

You placed your fingers back on her pussy, collecting more of her juices. Tapping your fingers against her lower lip, you didn't have trouble slipping them inside her mouth, playing with the softness of her tongue before she actively sucked her own wetness from your fingers.

– Lube them well, okay? – you asked while kissing her jaw and neck. – Then you won't feel any discomfort when I slip them inside you.

A muffled sound left her mouth and you just chuckled before taking your fingers out of her mouth. Without warning, you slipped them inside her.

– Oh, God! – she moaned, throwing her head back on your shoulder, her eyes fluttering close. 

– Is it hurting? – you asked, kissing her temple.

– No, no… – she bit down her lower lip, furrowing her brows as she shifted softly against your hips. She didn't seem uncomfortable at all, just unaccustomed. – Just stay still until I tell you so.

With your free hand, you stroke her face and jaw, making her relax against you.

– Go on. – she said softly.

Pushing your fingers deeper, you found her clit with your thumb. 

– You know… you have a nice bush down here. – you complimented her, eyeing the ginger locks contrasting with the white fabric and her milky skin. A blush creeped on her skin.

– If only you fucked me with the same talent you use to talk nonsense... – she mumbled with a bratty attitude. 

– A what now? – you asked just to be met with her silence. – Well, then I'm sure you could do a better job yourself, don't you think? – you threatened to remove your fingers from her, but her hand on your wrist tightened, holding it in place as she regretted.

– No, no, you're doing great…! – she said, holding your gaze through the mirror. – Don't stop.

You smirked at her reflex and watched her melt against you once again as you started thrusting your fingers in and out her slick hole, the wet sounds filling the room along her small whimpers. But, of course, the quiet atmosphere was broken once her pleasure started to build up. 

Everyone who had watched Reno knew she was cheerful and loud at the stage, yet few knew that she was just as loud in bed. Unashamed - and, honestly, not caring at all - if people were able to hear her in the closest rooms.

– Yes! Yes! Just like that! – the words would fall from her lips in succession, like a hellish melody and you were the one orchestrating it.

You couldn’t point out what was better at that moment. If it was to feel her panting against your body as you held her in her place. Or to hear her cries of pleasure so close. Or to see her slim and beautiful figure squirming at every thrust. Or to be thrusting your fingers as deep as you could, caressing the velvet walls of her insides in a dance you discovered  with her...

Or to have all those sensations combined with the fact that, in the intensity of the moment, Reno acknowledged how loud she was getting and, in a desperate measure to quiet her down for a bit, she reached for your free hand and placed it around her neck, inciting you to choke her quiet.

Holding her throat firmly and doing a final effort with your fingers and thumb to calm down her buckling hips, you watched, mesmerized, as her eyes rolled up and her mouth fell open as a struggled moan left her, her whole body tensing up as she reached her climax, her legs shaking and her hips occasionally buckling to the gentle rhythm you set to help her ride down her orgasm.

Once she started to melt in your arms, you started to slow down your fingers until they came to a stop. Your whole hand was covered in her juices and you didn’t waste time before sliding into Reno’s mouth the exact fingers that were inside her greedy pussy just seconds ago.

She opened her eyes in surprise, but didn’t make any move to not take them inside her mouth. You were still holding her neck softly and gave a playfully squeeze at it before guiding her chin to face the mirror once again.

– Look at you, Reno… – her eyes stared at themselves in the mirror.

She was the absolute picture of lust. Fiery locks falling into all directions, breasts showing off above her bra, legs spread widely, stretched out pussy, skin flushed in a soft pink, eyes hooded and a bit hazy and all the while you were the one holding her like that.

– You really were onto something when you sang that nowadays anything goes.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[cultofdarkwood]

*grandma voice* In my day there was a video of a man coming out of anaesthesia being filmed by his wife and had no idea who she was so he started hitting on her, only to choke up when she tells him she's his wife.

That but Narilamb (or dealer's choice)

hold on thats hilarious, one sec. hope u don't mind i changed it a little bit :3

-> rules to request a ficlet here!!!

-

When Narinder opened his eyes, all he could see was red. Sharp red light illuminated the dark shadows, giving shape to dark wooden ceiling arches high above. The blinding light faded, and something pulled from his throat, gurgling and churning.

A dark liquid flowed from his lips, the harsh tugging leaving his throat sore and mouth dry. He coughed, turning over onto his side as the chanting within the darkness began to cease.

"Narinder!" A voice called. There was a clop of hooves on wood, approaching, loud, before a cold rush of air flowed over him and the face of a beautiful stranger leaned over him. White wool curled over their soft, grey cheeks, a pitch black crown nestled between two dark, tall horns. Their eyes were red, a deep color that reminded him of spilled wine.

They were speaking to him, he realized. This gorgeous stranger with soft clouds of wool, dressed in a striking red robe that complimented both their wool and dark grey fur, was speaking to him.

"Narinder," they said, worrying their bottom lip between sharp teeth, and oh, what another beautiful detail about them. "Narinder, are you okay?"

"I must have died," he said in a hazy voice, "for there is no living creature that can compare to the beauty of one such as yours."

Somewhere insignificant, there was a snort, and a hastily covered giggle. The beautiful stranger looked surprised.

"Narinder," they said, unable to tamp down a smile of their own, despite their worry. "You did die."

"Oh," he said. "Does that make it impossible for me to court you?"

There was another hastily covered laugh from somewhere else. He cared not from who or where, focused entirely on the beautiful stranger holding him in their arms. Since when had they drawn so close and touched him?

"I- I mean, I suppose you could," the stranger said, laughing to themself as well. "But, Narinder, we are already married."

"Oh," he said again, looking at the stranger, then down at their hands.

"Nari- Narinder!" the stranger laughed as he struggled to look, sitting up on his own and grabbing their left hand. He stared at the metal band upon their finger, his face twisting up.

"Oh," he said once more, his voice choked with tears, "I have no chance at all."

Unable to help themself, the stranger with white wool burst out laughing. Their laugh was one of fondness, laughter so full of love that Narinder couldn't stop his devastation from spilling down his cheeks.

"Kallamar," the stranger called, beautiful, loving delight in their voice. They took their hand from him, gently cupping his face and wiping away his tears. "Kallamar, help me get him to the healing hut please. Disciples of mine, send everyone back to their duties."

"Who is that?" Narinder asked, sniffling pathetically, paying no attention to the soft, gentle hands helping him up. Instead he clung to the stranger, leaning on them as they led the way from the dark building. "Is that your spouse?"

"Hah! Absolutely not," a voice beside him spoke. It was watery and high and soft despite its nasal tone. It didn't belong to the beautiful stranger, so he ignored it.

"No," the lamb said, gently grabbing his hand as they ducked inside another building. They lifted his hand and showed it to him, sitting him down on the bed and smiling. He wore a metal band on his finger, one that matched the band on the lamb's hand. "Narinder, you're my husband, my darling."

"That resurrection ritual did a number on him," the other voice, supposedly Kallamar, said, and there was a rustling of baskets and the clinking of glass bottles. "I've never seen him so... so... well, like me."

Narinder looked up at the lamb, and found they were no longer a stranger to him. The wetness on his cheeks, instead of devastating, now left him feeling mortified. The lamb smiled, their free hand cupping his face.

"Ah, there you are, my love," they said, attuned to his recognition. They kissed the top of his head, between his ears, and despite his embarrassment, he couldn't help but melt into the affection.

"What happened?" he asked, wincing at the way his voice cracked with previously shed sorrow. "Resurrection? Why do I find it difficult to recall..."

"A new side effect," the lamb muttered with a sigh, kissing the top of his head again. "You died, my love, and I brought you back. Kallamar?"

"I'll figure it out," the other voice grumbled, and Narinder finally tore his eyes away from the lamb to glance across the hut. A pale blue squid was pulling down several bottles from a high shelf with his tentacles, reading the labels and setting them aside in a growing pile-up. "I've not failed yet."

"Who is he?" Narinder asked, and Kallamar fumbled the bottle he was holding, glancing over his shoulder to stare at Narinder. A second later, the hand on his cheek gently turned him away, and he was face to face with the lamb again, that beautiful lamb.

"He's your brother," they said patiently, their thumb gently stroking the fur of his cheek. "He's going to help you get your memory back. Right, Kallamar?"

"I already agreed," Kallamar grumbled, and there was another clink of glass.

The lamb smiled, gentle and sweet, nuzzling their nose to Narinder's. He melted into the affection, his tail curling as a purr started up in his chest.

"Don't," Narinder started, unsure of what he wanted to say but saying it anyways. "Don't leave me alone."

"I won't," the lamb agreed. "I'll stay with you."

[willowed-wisp]

HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART- part three

previous | next

Ser Harwin Strong x female!OC/x reader

WARNINGS: swearing, suggestive themes

It was cold when she woke. And she wasn’t in her bed.

Recalling the events of that past night- she was in her underclothes, not a fortunate sign. Bert wouldn’t have let her go with a stranger.

The woman sat up- rest of the room foggy except the man sat in the chair. He stared right at her, “What happened last night?” The Gods merciful as she didn’t seem to have a headache.

She’d not noticed before he stood- but the knight wore no shirt. Safe to say, Elspeth was both attracted and flustered. Being strong meant carrying a certain build- Harwin did not disappoint and if made her hate him that much more. “Thank the Seven you’re alive,” He held a chalice of water, “Drink this.” Mouth dry at him and the previous nights’ frivolities.

She finished the entire cup, “What happened last night?” Tone firmer, he sat on the foot of the bed. Had he always looked like that?

He was hunched over - elbows to knees - his smile exchanged with a frown. “Who did that to you?” He changed the subject, and she didn’t want to give the answer. With that intense stare it wouldn’t take long before she did something she didn’t hold high favour toward.

“I- ,” a half spoken lie wouldn’t get her anywhere- not with Harwin. He’d spent so much time with her he knew exactly when she spoke false truths. In the silence, she never expected a large hand to reach for hers. And to further bemuse the woman, she held onto it. Remembering the strayed tears and how that hand felt stroking through the locks of her red hair. The emotion flooded back in her words, “What kind of person harms their own child?” He was there again- just holding her - Elspeth had never felt safer.

Stroking her hair, as head cradled on his chest. His heartbeat controlled how she breathed. It was all bliss until she realised that closeness- how her own heart skipped and faltered and his bare skin on hers. Harwin’s face so close that shivers and tickles worked their way over.

That tether between the tension about to snap.

Then there was a knock at the door. The scramble ensued, neither wanted her to leave that position. But the person did not wait before the doors barrelled wide. Revealed the man’s father, Ser Lyonel Strong, and the scene looked much more diabolical in his eyes, “You had better have a good explanation, boy!” Those doors slammed shut, and her feet hung over his bed. A gentle hand on her back as fur clung around her shoulders.

Her head dipped as a thank you, “Speak!” She laughed at her own father giving her a lecture but she deeply respected the master of laws- the girl was ashamed.

Harwin Strong remained completely still, throwing on a loose fitted shirt, “What do you want me to say?”

“That the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower wasn’t in your bed last night. If the Lord Hand discovers that his bargaining chip of the kingdoms has been defiled-“

“He did no such thing and the ‘bargaining chip’ is right here, Ser Lyonel. Your son showed me nothing but kindness and respect. The fault is not his.” The older man studied the pair.

He turned his back to them, probably figuring a way out of this bind. “Ser Hightower would have nothing to argue with if I were to ask for your hand,” Her messy hair flicked, watching the side of his face- meeting the gaze that made her feel fuzzy and molten. That look wasn’t that of a man being forced to marry.

The master of laws held a deep sigh, “You were supposed to join the City Watch… become Lord Commander…” And she had wrecked that plan, dissolved it because of childish urges.

“Many Gold Cloaks are married!”

“Or we could pretend like this never happened? Harwin did not bed me. Now, I would like to put my garments on- it’s rather chilly.” She didn’t want to admit her heart was breaking denying the offer of betrothal. Harwin was the only man that made her feel something- that untameable energy within. He was kind, protective… not ugly nor did he have one foot in the grave.

Lyonel vacated the room while his son remained, at her request. “Why are you against my proposal?”

She shrugged, not that he could see- facing away, why did he have to be such a gentlemen? “I’m too young for marriage. The only compelling reason is getting away from my father, otherwise I hold no interest.” Only silence lingered, until she donned that dress once again. She was never going to hear the end of it from the Lord Hand. Elspeth watched Harwin’s taut expression, “What’s got you grief-stricken, Strong?”

He struggled to tie his hair back- before she swatted his hands away, doing herself. His hair felt almost fluffy, “Have you never been in love?” Broad shoulders jerked as he spoke with his hands. What had gotten him so frustrated?

“I could ask you in turn, Ser. Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes,” A puppy-like infatuation embraced his eyes as she circled back round. Harwin’s hand bracing her jaw and the blue in his eyes invasive. Neither knew which one broke first but they were drawn into a crushing kiss. Elspeth turned with ease- hands wondering down to her waist not dipping lower. He was a gentleman after all.

His fingertips clenched while her body surged up. Dragging him down by the back of his neck. She felt freed, like her breaths were her own not controlled by the Hightowers. It’s what kept the fervour raging, arm slung around Harwin’s neck. The knight hoisted her up with a breathless ease, even when he smiled the kiss didn’t break.

Elspeth was weightless- not a care in the Known World. Hands bracing her waist as she fought the urge to wrap her legs around his. Harwin broke the fever, “You’re extraordinary,” A reach to bring her face closer. They searched in one another’s souls, “But I cannot dishonour you.” Elspeth sank, a waver in her steeled eyes. He let go of the woman, head still in the clouds.

“When I’m one and twenty,” His response was one of bafflement.

He smiled wicked and wide, “Forgive me, my Lady.”

She battled her own grin - clearing her throat - collecting herself, “You can ask me for my hand when I am one and twenty. I promise myself to you.” Love filled his eyes, hope bordered. Fingers reaching for hers, and she caught them in her hand. “So, Ser Breakbones, do you accept my proposal?”

Pecking her forehead with a softness, “It would be my honour, Lady Strong,” her heart skipped- maybe stopped altogether. She hid the blush, but not well enough from Harwin but he let it slide.

He’d tease her about it later.

She looked up at him with a look he’d never seen before, “They’ll have a war party out for me if I don’t show my face. I’ll see you later, Ser Strong.”

And with that she was gone, walking at such pace to avoid suspicion from her father. But he was bound to have noticed his ‘bargaining chip’ had left her roost.

That’s until she met eyes with her Princess- face red with fury but softened as she saw Elspeth, “Rhaenyra, what’s the matter?” The Targaryen grasped her hands- something truly was wrong.

“Where have you been?” Mixed with the anger and concern- Elspeth couldn’t pin it to just one.

Elspeth stopped them, “No, I asked you first. What’s the matter?”

“I've been named as heir.”

Brows furrowed, voice hushed, “What about Daemon?” That’s when she received a glare. “What has he done now?” Normally Rhaenyra was completely onboard with her uncle’s endeavours- her being his partner in crime. But it was a blinded void, that dragon fyre roared in her friend.

“He declared to a room of whores and petty thieves… that he was happy my mother and brother died because he would finally be the true heir,” She suspected her father had something to do with this report, “He called Baelon, ‘The Heir for a Day’…” Without a second thought, no matter how much it burned her friend- she drew her into a crush. The ‘Elsie Special’, name given by Nyra and Alicent. And it was welcome, maybe the younger girl felt as safe as Elspeth had in Harwin’s.

They remained there until Rhaenyra pulled away, tears rampant. The pair returned to the Princess’ chambers. “Is this what you want, Rhaenyra?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. My father thinks me a better fit than Daemon,” she spat his name.

The coronation was beautiful, Rhaenyra would make a fine queen. But it was clear the reluctance of Houses bending the knee to her. Their pride could not handle a woman reigning over them. Rhaenyra Targaryen would be their Queen and they would have to get used to the new reality.

But all the while, she stood beside the master in laws and his two sons. Hand holding in secrecy with the eldest.

What was the future to hold? Harwin Strong would definitely become its centre point.

Six months passed, and the woman couldn't stop bumping into the man. Sharing a kisses where prying eyes weren't welcome. Rhaenyra commented that during gatherings, whether Harwin and Elspeth were parted or close, the tension was palpable. Maybe Otto Hightower would pick up on that and arrange a meeting for her betrothal to him- get rid of her.

A woman could hope and pray to The Seven. Neither meant any divine intervention would take place.

Her own tensions weren't the only running rife. Beyond the Seven Kingdoms- the Stepstones, it had been a concern for years. Pirates had always taken refuge there, quite infamous for their troves in the many cave systems. "May I speak freely?"

Rhaenyra's head peered up with a smile, "When don't you speak freely, Elsie. Go ahead."

"Why hasn't your father intervened in the Stepstones? Surely it could be quickly resolved with dragons..."

"Are you sure we're not the same person?" Her quizzical and whimsical look had Elspeth in stitches. Rhaenyra going back to her studies- apparently unable to focus - before facing her friend again, "I was relieved of my duty as cupbearer for posing the same question. Lord Corlys appeared on board with the idea,"

Elspeth nodded, "Dutifully so, they are his ships being plundered."

"Yes, and then your father had me removed to select the newest Kingsguard. It may have been more amusing than filling cups- but if I am to be heir to the Seven Kingdoms I must know what happens in them." The nib of her quill broke, ink spilling across the page. Elspeth gathered a handkerchief to contain the spillage. "Thank you. If I am not trained for my duties as Queen, I will look a fool but supposedly if my father trains me it makes him look stupid. Do you understand what I'm saying or are these Council meetings driving me insane?"

Elspeth grabbed her hands from across the table, "You lacked sanity when I met you. And what it sounds like you're trying to say is, 'why did the King name your heir if he weren't to mould you into a rightful one'?"

"When I rule, you will be my Lady Hand," She stood in a frivolous display, "All rise, the Hand of the Queen- Lady Elsie Strong!" Elspeth dumbfounded.

"Maybe you have gone crazy, Princess. I am a Hightower not a Strong,"

"But you will be a Strong when I am Queen. You'll probably have quite handsome little Strongs running around, as well,” Elspeth attempted to appear dumb, “You’re not fooling anyone. I’d have to be blind to ignore the way that man has been looking at you. And the way you look at him… when’s the wedding?”

“Is anybody really ready to be wed? Twelve is too young as is nineteen.”

Rhaenyra quirked her face. “When I am forced to marry, I won’t be as fortunate as you to have a man look at me like Ser Harwin does you!” She didn’t shout. She had never shouted at Elspeth Hightower and never would.

“I promised myself to him. When I am one-and-twenty we will marry, Alicent nor my father know. I haven't figure that part out yet." She twiddled her thumbs, fidgeting to relieve the embarrassment

Rhaenyra giggled, "This is so exciting! Have you done anything? Y'know... in his bed chambers..."

Elspeth gasped- mainly in faux, "Princess, you shouldn't know of such things!" Before she giggled, being tackled on her seat by the blonde. "And we've only kissed. It is unbecoming and unladylike to do anything further before marriage."

"Well it must be good if people want to do it out of wedlock," She shrugged while Elspeth shook her head.

The eldest changed the subject, "So who did you choose as the new Kingsguard?"

A smirk spread upon the Princess' fair features- Elspeth knew that face, "Ser Criston Cole."

"A fine choice,"

A scoff from the heir to the throne, "You didn't even see him unhorse my uncle. Actually where were you?" A knowing look. "You can't stay away from him. You love him," A playful shove and singsong tone. And it was true- about her not being able to remain distant. She wasn't sure if she loved Ser Harwin Strong. She cared for him, and that grew everyday but it wasn't love.

Not quite yet.

She left Rhaenyra - who had been called into a Council meeting.

“Practicing without your shirt is not a requirement, Ser,” That nakedness, that smirk. She was weak at her knees, but held herself. More than once in a week was too much.

He put down the sword, grabbing a canteen of water. Approaching the fair maiden- practically his betrothed, “My Lady, you’re staring.” Water over his face- running down his hair and his body. Elspeth used every ounce of self control she possessed.

Though her tongue proved to be less malleable, “I definitely prefer it over speaking to the Lord Hand.”

“I think everyone would.”

“Well aren’t you the picture of modesty?” They’d both taken steps forward. All the woman wanted to do was feel his lips on hers, down her neck. All over. Harwin’s eyes spoke the same intentions. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I cannot promise that, my Lady,” He inched even more- his breath caressed her skin.

Her own caught in her words, “And why’s that?”

“Because, I keep falling for you.” She wanted to tell him how cheesy it was. How she was unaffected. How she wholeheartedly never wanted him to kook at her again. But she’d be a liar.

They weren’t naive nor fickle minded. Chin lifted and she was all his, moaning before she was on his lips again.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

The Witch 2

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: Part 2 of the lovely Anon request about Sihtric x healer!reader. I'm completely enchanted by the story. It seems it has healed my writing block completely as I kept writing the whole day and there was no stop. And it seems that there will be Part 3

Warnings: fluff and a bit of heartbreak, but very delicate

Word Count: 4,2K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

As the morning sun cast its gentle rays through the window, the room began to fill with light. You sighed and rubbed your eyes as you finished stitching Sihtric's wound. After carefully securing the last stitch, you set your needle and thread aside and sat down for a moment, enjoying the stillness around you. 

The water in the basin felt cool against your skin and quickly turned red as you thoroughly washed away the blood from your hands.

You turned back to look at Sihtric, who lay peacefully asleep. Your potion had proven to be strong enough to ease his pain and keep him in slumber. A small, relieved smile playing on your lips, you watched over the young warrior's slender, sharply defined, and exceedingly handsome face, complete with a straight nose and strong jaw. 

As if guided by an irresistible force, you extended your hand and began to gently stroke his hair, your touch exuding tenderness and solace,  a surge of warmth welling up inside you. Your curiosity about him and his lord was undeniable, but there lingered an unshakable feeling that there was something more to this encounter. You shook your head, offering yourself a self-amused smirk.

"You have to be kidding," you teased yourself, your voice a playful chide. "The wise and ever-rational, powerful witch, falling for a complete stranger, and undoubtedly a spy at that?"

"You've spurned kings, chieftains, and formidable warriors, only to let the sweet, shy smiles and captivating eyes of a boy melt your resolve? What madness is this?" you mocked yourself, as your fingers kept tracing lines over Sihtric’s neatly braided hair, wondering and delighting at the strange feeling of butterflies in your stomach.Were the Gods having a laugh at your expense by sending him to your doorsteps, or was it perhaps a sign? 

As fatigue began to overtake you, and your eyelids grew heavy, you settled yourself in a comfortable position beside Sihtric on a nearby chair. Your weariness finally caught up with you, and you drifted off to sleep.

You stirred from your slumber, the sound of Sihtric's distressed mumbling pulling you back to consciousness. The effects of the potion seemed to be wearing off,  his face contorted with pain as he whimpered and moaned in sleep, his body shivering. You placed your hand on his forehead and grimaced - he was in a fever. 

Once of a sudden Sihtric's disjointed whispers turned into comprehensible words. "Uhtred... Aethelflaed..." he murmured. “Yes, Lord!”

You reached out to him, your touch gentle as you began to stroke his hair, offering soothing words to calm his restless slumber. "Shh, it's alright. You're safe here," you whispered.

—------------------------------------------------------

Sihtric awoke from a deep and dreamless sleep, his consciousness slowly emerging from the depths of slumber as if it didn’t want to let go of him, his head throbbing, eyelids so heavy as if they were filled with lead. Even without opening his eyes, Sihtric could tell that something was wrong. The bed was far too soft, the room bathed in the warmth of the sunlight, he could sense on his face even with eyes closed, was too bright and the fresh blanket covering him was surely not his usual fur cover smelling of smoke, horses and sweat.  He remained still, his eyes closed, listening intently to the world around him. Some silent but quick and purposeful footsteps echoed through the room, signalling he was not alone. Some other sounds accompanied the footsteps and Sihtric strained to identify the source of them, but it eluded him.

As he lay there, he began to notice the strange aroma around him, a mix of unfamiliar and familiar herbs, tickling his senses. He could recognise thyme, deadly nightshade and arnika, but there were so many more mingled together, creating a weil of scent wafting through the air and enveloping him from all sides.

He remembered himself sitting at the fire and listening to Uhtred instructing him to spy in Beamfleot. Beamfleot… Danes… Aethelflaed… memories started to rush back in an unstoppable tide.

He had been injured, he remembered the pain, the small house at the edge of the town, his weird urge to reach it in the hope for help and the strangely familiar, beautiful face with eyes wide in surprise looking down at him, telling him he was safe and he was going to be alright. 

Had it all been real or was it once again one of his vivid, taunting dreams? With deliberate slowness, Sihtric opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, as his hand found the neat and expertly made bandage around his waist. 

He had been sure he was going to die on that porch as he tried to knock at the closed door, not even knowing what was waiting for him behind them. And then the door went open and he saw you. The firm and confident sound of your voice echoed in his ears as he recalled how he had clung to that voice, channelling all his remaining strength. It had soothed and guided him, preventing him from succumbing to the encroaching darkness that threatened to consume him. He also remembered the firm and confident grip of two small yet strong arms, pulling him to his feet.

"Hey, welcome back to the land of the living!" The familiar, firm voice, warm and melodic, greeted him. A pleasantly soft and cool hand landed on his forehead. "You still have a fever, but I managed to stop the bleeding."

Taking a seat by the bedside, you checked the bandage carefully before reaching out and gently soothing the young man's cheek. Sihtric flinched at your touch, as though it had scorched him. He still couldn’t believe that out of all possible places, fate had decided to mock him and bring to your doorsteps. 

"I know you," Sihtric whispered hoarsely, licking his dry lips. His fingers clenched around your hand, and his gaze scanned every feature of your face, as if he still questioned whether you were real. "You... you are Sigefrid's..."

"Just please don't call me a witch," you interjected, "I don't like that."

"No... I... I didn't mean that. You... you are the seer. Did you save me?" Sihtric stuttered, his cheeks turning crimson. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you nodded in response, keeping a watchful eye on him.

"Tell me, Sihtric," you began with a mischievous smile, handing him a mug from the small table near the bed, "Your Lord, Uhtred, the Dane killer, is he a good lord? Is he kind to you?"

The mug slipped from Sihtric's hand as he choked and started coughing frantically. A sudden excruciating pain shot through his right side, causing him to gasp, wince, and grip his side before falling back onto the mattress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

You observed him closely as his big, expressive eyes shifted to you.

"How... how do you know?" he breathed out sharply.

"I'm a seer," you grinned, your tone light. "And besides, you've been talking in your sleep."

Sihtric closed his eyes, cursing silently, his mind racing with escape possibilities, each more audacious than the last. However, he couldn't deny the reality that, unable to even get himself out of the bed without help, he was completely at your mercy.

"Why did you save me? You should have left me to die on your porch," he finally managed to utter, his voice tinged with bitterness.

"I don't mean any harm to you," you assured him gently. "I just want to know whether this was worth it." You touched Sihtric's arm, and as he opened his eyes, you traced your fingers over some of the scars on his chest.

"Lord Uhtred is a good and kind lord," Sihtric admitted truthfully, seeing no reason to lie. His eyes followed your fingers tracing his skin, and his cheeks flushed even more intensely, embarrassment shimmering in his gaze. "All these are from my previous life, before I met him."

"You need to rest and let yourself heal. You are safe here, and your secret is safe with me," you assured him, rising and turning to leave as Sihtric grabbed your hand to stop you.

"What do you mean?" he asked, doubt evident in his voice.

"I mean what I said. You sought help at my doorstep. I’m a healer. I don't sort or judge people seeking my help; I heal them."

"You mean you're not handing me over to Sigefrid?" Sihtric clung to your hand as if he were a drowning man grasping at a wooden plank. His eyes searched yours. You rolled your eyes and pulled your hand back.

"Wait... please, don't go," the soft, pleading tone of his voice caught you off guard, and you stopped. "I... I don't know what to say... thank you," he whispered, his large, mismatched eyes never leaving yours.

—--------------------------------------------

Sihtric was far from being over the mountain; the wound was deep, he had lost a lot of blood and you were worried that the wound might become infected. He was feverish, and his sleep was often filled with nightmares. He tossed and rolled in his bed, moaning and whimpering, and even your potions didn’t always provide him with deep and undisturbed sleep.

Sihtric could have sworn he heard your melodic voice through his nightmares, whispering soothing words or humming a soft melody and he was sure he had felt the fleeting touch of your gentle fingers running through his hair or your hand squeezing his. When he opened his eyes, you were never there, but your presence lingered in the air and on his skin.

The first days Sihtric flinched at every sound at the door, expecting warriors to burst into the room and seize him, ready to bring him before Erik and Sigefried as the spy that he was. As each day passed and nothing happened, he felt increasingly embarrassed for doubting your words. 

From the corner where his bed was placed, he could see people coming and going, primarily Danes. However, under the cover of darkness, Saxons also sneaked in. The word of your healing skills had spread quickly, but most were still hesitant to openly seek help from a pagan and a supposed witch. It didn't matter when, day or night, or who knocked at your door—you never turned anyone away.

The days passed and Sihtric slowly but steadily improved. He could already get out of the bed without your help and move around the house, he just got tired very quickly, which was normal, recalling how much blood he had lost. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes followed you around the room, or how his cheeks flushed and his breath quickened when you insisted on checking his wound and applying a new bandage. The sighs that escaped his lips when your hands touched his bare skin were incredibly endearing. Sometimes, you couldn't resist letting your fingers linger a bit longer on his well-sculpted abdomen, relishing the way he held his breath until you finally withdrew. 

You wanted to know more about Uhtred, the Dane killer. As the quiet of the evenings settled in, you often found yourself by Sihtric's bedside, urging him to share more about himself and his lord. At the beginning he was hesitant, but as you shared with him bits by bits the story of your own life, he gradually opened up. You enjoyed listening to his soft, charming voice as he recounted how his path had crossed with Uhtred, shared stories of life in Coochem, and described his first experiences in Lundene. As he spoke, the bond between you deepened, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways that went far beyond mere curiosity.

The hours seemed to drag on endlessly for Sihtric as he impatiently awaited the evenings when you would settle by his bedside to talk. You were so close that he could have easily reached out and touched you, but he didn't dare. The unique blend of herbs, lavender, and rose oil emanating from you left him feeling slightly dizzy, while his eyes slowly wandered over your beautiful face, framed by a crown of thick, dark hair that was always slightly dishevelled. His gaze eventually would travel down to your lips. He had imagined kissing them so many times that it felt as if he could almost feel their softness brushing against his own. Sighing deeply, he would attempt to calm his racing heart, but his burning cheeks always betrayed his inner turmoil as he continued to listen to your melodic voice, sharing stories about your childhood. You spoke of the small village where you had grown up, with your father being a Christian blacksmith and your mother a Dane, a pagan, and a healer.

That one evening, as you told him of how your mother had died at the hands of an enraged mob, incited by priests who blamed her for a bad harvest, tears glistened in the corners of your eyes. Sihtric could no longer hold back his emotions. He reached out, his trembling fingers wrapping around your hand. He half-expected you to withdraw, but you didn't. Instead, you allowed his touch, and Sihtric's heart swelled with warmth as he held your hand firmly, squeezing it gently while tracing his thumb over your skin.

He could feel your pain as if it were his, as your confession had stirred his own memories. Memories he had thought long buried and forgotten. As you finally wished him good night and prepared to leave, he couldn't bring himself to let you go. He pulled your hand closer, closing his eyes and pressing your palm tightly against his cheek, seeking comfort in the touch.

On that evening, Sihtric finally told you his own story. It was the first time he had ever spoken of it to someone, the first time he had dared to voice his pain, anger, and the overwhelming shame that he hadn't been able to protect his own mother from the wrath of his father. It was both liberating and devastating, as it meant admitting it had really happened.

You reached out to gently wipe away the tears that slowly trickled down Sihtric's cheeks as he recounted his life in Dunholm. You wanted to say something to offer comfort, but the words wouldn't leave your lips as you sensed that they wouldn't suffice. In the next moment, you found yourself moving closer to him, instinctively wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a tight, comforting embrace. It was as if this simple, tender gesture had broken a dam within Sihtric. He leaned into your hug, and you cradled him, nuzzling soothingly into his hair, as his body shook with soft sobs.

“You know it was not your fault. You were just a child. There was nothing you could do,” you finally murmured, your voice heavy with sorrow and regret. 

You noticed the embarrassed and pained look on Sihtric's face the next morning as you brought him his breakfast. He believed himself to be disgraced in your eyes because of his weakness, and avoided your gaze, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the blanket. Taking a seat at his bedside, you gently took hold of his hand and brought it to your lips, planting a soft kiss on his palm.

Sihtric's eyes widened in surprise, and he exalted sharply. He wanted to say something, but you placed your index finger on his lips, urging him to be quiet. Your eyes locked, your faces just centimetres apart, and in a sudden surge of emotions, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

Surprised and caught off guard, Sihtric let out a soft moan as his lips eagerly met yours with a hint of desperation. You could sense his inexperience in the way his lips tentatively, almost weightlessly wandered around yours, but his eagerness excited you as you guided him into a deeper kiss, gently parting his lips with your tongue and teasingly licking into his mouth. 

Having dreamt about it hundreds of times, Sihtric couldn't believe you were actually kissing him. His world was spinning, and the sensation of your lips on his stole his breath away. His vision blurred, his breathing became erratic, and all he could think about was how soft and warm your lips felt. Sihtric had never been kissed like this before. While he was not a virgin, his experiences with women were rather limited to encounters with ladies offering their fleeting love for silver in alehouses, and they were not inclined to spend time on tender kisses.

Trembling with desire, he surrendered to you, moaning softly as your tongue slipped into his mouth crashing against his own. It was endearingly sweet to see how overwhelmed and completely captivated he was by your touch. He remained almost frozen, his eyes closed, and his breath held as he let your tongue explore his mouth. 

Sihtric almost whined at the loss when you broke the kiss and withdrew slowly from his lips. He opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours, and suddenly, the shy, hesitant, and timid boy was gone. Sihtric's hands cupped your face, firmly pulling you closer, and his lips were back on yours again, gentle but demanding. He grew bolder and more determined with each passing moment,  lustfully inspecting your lips with his tongue, licking and sucking at them before sliding his tongue into your mouth exploring with eagerness every corner of it, feeling and tasting you in a burning thirst. 

And this time it was you who was left breathless, lightheaded, dizzy, and craving for more. Your fingers tangled in Sihtric's thick, curly hair, and you never wanted to let go. Even when you both finally broke the kiss, gasping for air, Sihtric didn't release his hold on you. His hand remained firmly placed on the back of your neck, and your foreheads touched as you both breathed heavily against each other's lips. In that moment, you couldn't help but think that this had probably been the best kiss of your entire life.

"I... I should go attend to some of the sick. I'll be back later,"  you murmured, clearing your throat. You gave Sihtric a small smile, your cheeks flushed, and you quickly made your way to the door.

Sihtric, still trying to catch his breath, stammered something incomprehensive that might have sounded like, "Yes, yes, of course, you should, " as he watched you leave, his heart pounding with a mixture of confusion and desire. 

As soon as you closed the door behind you, Sihtric slumped back against the pillow, replaying the moment in his mind. He couldn't help but wonder if he had done something wrong to make you retreat so hastily. His thoughts raced, filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, as he tried to make sense of the unexpected kiss and what it might mean. 

It felt truly impossible for him to believe that you, the powerful, feared, and respected, breathtakingly beautiful seer of a mighty Danish warrior who threatened to overwhelm and conquer the whole of Wessex, could have genuine feelings for a poor and landless bastard in service of a lord who was supposed to be your enemy. But if not that, why play with his heart so cruelly?

Closing the doors behind you, you leaned against them, your heart racing and your breaths coming in heavy gasps. What had just happened? Why had you allowed yourself to be swept away by that kiss? Questions raced through your mind, each one more insistent than the last.

You had worked so hard to achieve your position as the seer of one of the most respected and powerful Danish chieftains. Your knowledge and skills had earned you respect and a sense of purpose in a world where women like you often had nothing to say. Yet, in a single moment, everything had been thrown into turmoil by a kiss from a young and charming warrior.

You couldn't deny how drawn you felt to Sihtric, nor could you ignore the genuine connection that had formed between you during his recovery. But was it worth risking everything you had built? 

—----------------------------------------------------

The day was filled with awkward silences, hidden glances, and deep sighs. You attempted to carry on as if nothing had happened, but both of you were evidently struggling.

In the evening, as you settled by Sihtric's bedside, you maintained a greater distance than before. Your hands were clasped in your lap, out of his reach, and now it was you who avoided Sihtric's inquisitive gaze, as you had no immediate answers for him.

With a profound sigh, Sihtric's gaze roamed your features, desperately searching for some concealed sign or hint that the passionate kiss from that morning hadn't been a mere whim or impulsive mistake. He had eagerly awaited the evening, hoping for an opportunity to speak to you privately. However, now that you sat there at the far end of the bed, your eyes conspicuously evading his, no words escaped his lips. It was evident that you wanted to put that morning behind you, perhaps even regretting it. Sihtric reclined against the pillow and closed his eyes.

"Tell me more about Uhtred," you finally broke the awkward silence hanging in the air between you.

Sihtric sighed, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "I've told you so many things already. I don't know what else you want to know," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. He had burning questions of his own, and he wanted answers.

You shrugged, a hint of sadness in your eyes. "You've been recovering well lately," you said, trying to sound casual. "I think you've recovered enough to be ready to leave."

Sihtric's heart sank, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. He knew what you were getting at. You wanted him gone, out of your house, away from your sight and your life.

"I've probably overstayed my welcome," he managed to say, his voice feigning nonchalance, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. "I'll leave tomorrow morning."

You nodded, your expression unreadable. 

Sihtric swallowed hard. "My debt before you is deep, I owe you my life. If you ever need my sword," he added, "you just have to summon me, and I'll come."

"We both know that your oath to your lord comes first," you replied. It seemed to Sihtric that he could almost hear some hidden pain in your words. Was it his wishful thinking or your voice was trembling? "The next time we meet, we may be on different sides of a battlefield."

Sihtric's heart ached at your words. He wanted to reach out to you, to hold you, to tell you that he didn't want to be your enemy. But he couldn't find the words, and he knew that you were right.

"You may rest assured," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "I will never use against you what you have entrusted me with. What has been said between these walls will remain here," you added, rising from the bed and heading to the door. 

As the words hung in the air, both of you knew that this was a farewell, a parting of ways that neither of you truly wanted, but none of you could bring himself to speak against it. Any moment longer in the room with him, with the memories of that passionate kiss still fresh in your mind, would have shattered the composure you had carefully maintained. The warmth of his lips, the way he had held you so desperately, it had all stirred feelings you hadn't expected.

Your heart ached with a mixture of longing and confusion. You needed space and time to think, and to sort through the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed you, to clear your mind from the fog of love and affection that had clouded your ever so sound judgement. At least that’s what you said to yourself, as you closed the doors behind you and wiped away the tears that had welled up in your eyes. It somehow felt as if you had left a piece of your heart in that room behind you and it scared you, it frightened you beyond imaginable, as you had never felt something like this before. 

On the other side of the door Sihtric nervously raked his hands through his hair. He had wanted to stop you, to tell you that he didn't want to leave, that he wanted to stay with you. But he couldn't find the strength to do so. Who was he to demand anything from you if you so clearly had decided against him? He was grateful to you beyond borders for saving his life and not turning him in as a spy. It was still a mystery for him, why you had done that. He stared at the wooden ceiling feeling a profound emptiness in his chest, as if a part of him had just walked out of that door. He knew that he had to leave, you had been more than clear about it and this game had become too dangerous, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was leaving behind something precious, something he might never find again.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[bubble-popping]

day 40! i couldn't stop thinking about soft punznoblade bc of this post so naturally i had to write for it <3

The fire crackles in front of them, gentle noises to fill the otherwise silence. It cast long shadows behind the two people, orange light dancing on their faces. A snowstorm raged outside, but its sounds were resolutely muted by the wood coverings Techno had long reinforced the windows with. That same storm that they had just escaped and caused the need for dedicated time by the fireplace. While Punz was fully preoccupied by warming up, Techno couldn't help but notice something.

Both sets of hands outstretched towards the flames, yet his own were considerably larger. Longer, thicker fingers, scars littered across the tanned surface, and calluses roughening the texture.

Free from their usual gloves, Punz's slender digits ended with short claws painted black. He wore a few rings, golden gifts Techno had given him--true intentions hidden by a simple "Got too many of 'em." Never mind how they fit perfectly.

"Such little hands..." Techno mumbled, not really meaning for them to hear it.

His ear flicked, disturbed by Techno's breath ghosting over the sand-colored fur. Their hair looked particularly lovely in this lighting.

"Not really," they replied. "Yours are just huge." Pale hands fisted and flexed, urging blood to run through them quicker. "Reminds me of something stupid Sapnap would say. Maybe you can confirm," he mused with a chuckle.

"And what's that?"

"Everything's bigger in the Nether?"

Techno snorted, shoulders bouncing as he laughed under his breath. "Never heard that one, but there's prolly some truth to it. Bigger animals, bigger plants, bigger structures..."

"Yeah, I think he just meant his dick, but all that works too."

The piglin hybrid scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Classy."

Wordlessly, Punz nestled closer, rubbing his hands together as he exaggerated a shiver. "Can't believe I let you convince me to stay in the Arctic. 'm not built for this weather."

"Ya get used to it. Here, lemme." Gently, allowing ample time for Punz to pull away, Techno encompassed their smaller hands in his and exhaled hotly on their still freezing skin. His hold was firm and caring, yet purposely non-restrictive.

If he looked hard enough, Techno swore he saw his cheeks tinge red. A muffled, shuffling sound started, a familiar noise that Techno came to recognize as a wagging tail.

"Any better?"

Punz jolted at the sudden question and cleared his throat. "My hands are fine, but..." He trailed off, gaze averting.

This guy probably thought he was so clever.

"Ya need another blanket? Mine's big enough for two," he offered, lifting his quilt.

They instantly filled the space, nuzzling against Techno's side with folded ears and a small smile. Techno draped the blanket and his arm around his shoulders.

He fit snugly in place, like he was always meant to be there. Or maybe that was just the hopeless romantic in Techno talking.

Punz propped his head atop Techno's chest and Techno turned to meet his bright blue eyes, causing their faces to be just inches apart.

"Tell me again why you let me in."

Techno knew what they were referring to. That night all those weeks ago, when they were little more than strangers, before Techno saw all the softness underneath their tough outer layers.

"Couldn't leave ya out there to freeze. I'd be a terrible host. I might destroy countries, but I treat my guests with respect."

They giggled, quiet and fond, eyes squinting from a warm smile. "That's all?"

"That and... I wouldn't have this." He leaned in to rub their noses together. That shuffling sound got faster.

Those hands, small and smooth and thoroughly blood-stained, cupped Techno's face as if he held the world in his palms. "Who would've guessed you're such a sap?"

Techno turned to kiss at their wrists, noticing the pleasant warmth they now exuded. "Ya gotta accept a lil responsibility there."

Punz scoffed, face only growing darker. "What, am I too 'loveable'?"

"There ya go. Yer gettin' it."

[professonalarttheclownfan]

Bjorn Ironside

Not So Useless

tw- mentions of weight

Bjørn X plus size female reader

Every woman that ever saw Bjørn Ironside would tell you how unbelievably gorgeous the man is. That he was an incredible warrior with the heart of a bear, and you wholeheartedly agreed.

You had been quite fond of his mother Lagertha, she had been kind when others were cruel. It was common for you the get insults cast your way, being a bigger woman meant people some how thought you were dim & useless, but you worked hard and knew how to handle an axe.

You finished your day helping harvest crops with your farther and made your way to the woods in the surrounding area. The axe your farther gifted you sheathed in a leather holster round your waist. Once you had arrived to your destination, you shrugged off your furs and hooded cloak grabbing the small basket you had hidden between a rock and tree containing your bow and arrow.

Small targets dotted the trees trunks and the sun poked through the leaves casting a golden light, it’s was beautiful, your favourite place on earth, no judgement, no harsh words, no sneers.

You, your axe and the beautiful surroundings. Your happy place.

You pulled your axe free, rolling your shoulders in order to loosen them up. With out missing a beat you hurled your axe, like always it hit the target dead centre.

Bjørn had spotted the targets a little ways away, intrigued he walked further into the woods toward the clearing where you stood. He had taken a walk to try get away from his brothers, a breath of fresh air always seemed to help his racing mind. Thats when he saw you, you hadn’t noticed his approach at first. Being far to immersed in what you were doing you threw the axe again, narrowly missing the princes head. You let out a small scream, proceeding to apologise profusely. Cheeks burning red at the embarrassment, followed by almost instantly feeling self conscious at the fact you hadn’t hid your body under your cloak like usual. Although you wore a dress, you felt nude without it.

Bjørn was immensely impressed by you, you threw and swung your axe with precision and shot your arrow with ease. You’d make a fine shield maiden. You’d also make a fine wife too, he found himself smiling at the thought.

He’d always known of you his mother would speak kindly of you telling him that you were a hard worker with the heart of a true warrior. But to him you were nearly a stranger you’d be quick to make an exit when he was around, so he always thought you disliked him which is why he’s never approached you, he’d never want to make such a beautiful woman as yourself uncomfortable. His gaze would always fall upon you if you were near taking you all in, this sadly meant he was often teased by his brothers for liking the “far to plump woman”.

When he saw you bathed in a golden light and with a axe in your hand he and almost instantly felt himself fall in love. He imagined he’d melt if he ever saw you in armour.

He’d never been around a woman like you, you were soft yet strong, curvy & agile. Like you could bare his children but kill 100 men with ease.

“You are full of surprises y/n” he laughed showing his perfect smile, your stomach fluttered. “Never thought you were one to throw axes.”

“Well im glad I could surprise you, people are quick to assume im not good at anything.” You’d finally spoke, your voice was a sound he was yet to hear before this moment, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “I do apologise for nearly taking your head off though, im sure you’d rather keep it attached to your neck”

Bjørn stepped into the small clearing walking toward you, taking in every inch of you as he did when ever he saw you. Wondering if you were sent by the gods. Handcrafted just for him.

“I’d like to start training with you, you’re a lot calmer then my brothers and a lot more pleasing on the eyes” he said as he placed a gentle hand on your upper arm, looking down at you, a small smile crossed his lips again.

“Of course you can train with me, I’d like the company. But I just hope your not seen with me. I wouldn’t wish for you to be teased or be spoken badly about for being seen with me” your insecurities seeped through from your words. Bjørns smile turned into a frown, he knew people had said unpleasant things to you. Unbeknownst to you there had been times where he’d over heard rude comments made about you, and he’d have no choice but to put them in their place. He hated that you ever thought he’d be embarrassed to be seen with such a beauty as yourself.

“Y/n, any man or person that has something unpleasant to say is a fool. You’re beautiful.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, Bjørn Ironside. The most sought after man was calling you beautiful.

“If you’re saying that to bed me please don’t. I don’t want to be someone’s dirty little secret” there had been many times men have asked you to bed with them, wanting to know what it was like with a bigger woman, but would be highly embarrassed if others were to find out, so you’d reject them and they’d be quick to go back to throwing venomous words at you. Bjørns face twisted, hurt by your words. He and his brothers were known to have their way with females. So he knew deep down that it was a genuine worry. But no, he meant every word. Training with you would give him opportunity to make you fall for him too.

“No, y/n. You caught my eye years ago. To be given the opportunity to train with you will also give me the opportunity to get to know you.” He caught your eyes, the circular blue pools making you weak at the knees.

“Come to the feast with me tonight, allow me to show you I do not care what others think. You are beautiful to me regardless of what ever anyone one else thinks, and if they were to say anything they will be promptly dealt with. I would love to get to know your mind to and what lays deeper behind your beauty. So please consider it” his hand was still on your upper arm, luckily your dress was long sleeves so he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that now lined your skin. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your cheek. This really did feel like a dream.

Despite your nerves, and being not 100% convinced. You wouldn’t know if you didn’t agree to it.

You nodded, humming a yes. Causing Bjørns smile to fill out once again.

[euphoricfilter]

hybrid - Jin - “will you help me please” BYE COMING UP W A SENTMCE IS SAUR HARD

also pretty pls don’t make it smut ik it sounds like it could be used for that and ur instructions didn’t say we could decide so at the end of the day it is ur choice but pls consider not doing so <3

inconvenient convenience:

pairing: dog! seokjin x fennec fox! reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || strangers to lovers || hybrid au

summary: as much as you liked to poke fun at jin for believing in things as trivial as fate, there’s no denying your love story was moulded by destiny.

word count: 1.3k

tags/ warnings: tooth rotting fluff, that is all, peep the zero o'clock reference

notes: ikr!!! it’s always so difficult :’) dw babes if you don’t specify you wanted it, then i wouldn’t have added it!! ~ prompt from this drabble game

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

There’s something oddly surreal about shopping for snacks in a convenience store so late into the night, when the world holds its breath for a second and a new day starts.

Where streets are empty, muted glow of the streetlights spotting the path. Where stray cats look like shadows and the shadows look like never-ending black holes, where one step too far into the darkness will suck you in with no escape. Refuge found in the bold square of bright white light, window of the corner shop creating a small island of safety from what lurked in the darker places, ready to pounce.

When Jin thinks back to the start of your relationship, he likes the idea that the two of you had met so late into the night. Ever the romantic he is, he felt as though it solidified the fact you were the only two people in the world in that exact moment—if you ignored the young worker sat behind the counter, hours away from his shift ending with his phone’s volume on full blast, an onslaught of sounds picking at your ears if you’re stupid enough to not bring your own music to block it out.

It was easy for him to say it now, but he swears from that one fateful encounter, you were the only one for him. Where truly the world was your own, simply built for the two of you, and although a convenience store isn’t the most romantic place to meet your soulmate, Jin feels as though it had been the perfect place for a blossoming romance to start.

And as much as you liked to poke fun at him for believing in things as trivial as fate, there was no denying that your love story was moulded by destiny.

“Will you help me please?” you’d tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie, taking a step backwards as he’d tugged one of his earphones from his ears.

“Oh, I don’t work here” he shakes his head, watching as you chew on your bottom lip; your cheeks dusting rosy red when his eyes meet your own.

“I know” you’d nodded, voice pinching a little higher than normal, “But that kid scares me, so I thought I’d ask you for help instead?” you peep, so unsure of yourself that he feels a little bad for how defensive he must have come off.

His lips pull up into a gentle smile, a lame attempt to ease the anxiety that was rolling off you in thick waves, “Sure, what did you need?”

Your shoulders deflate, corners of your lips almost tugging upwards as you point behind you, “There’s this drink in the fridge but It’s right at the back so I can’t reach it”

You turn on your heels when he nods, and Jin watches as the sandy fur of your tail bushes out a little more when a scooter speeds down the road outside, honk of its horn startling the both of you that his hybrid ears twitch in the direction of the door. Somewhat of a reminder to him that really it isn’t only the two of you, whole world of people living their lives beyond those doors.

“That one” you point at the offending object, stepping out of Jin’s way when he pulls the door of the fridge open.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to reach, Jin steps up onto the little ledge on the floor of the freezer, and you cringe as it creaks under his weight; only praying he doesn’t fall because you had no plans of trying to catch him if he were to topple over.

“All done” he falls back onto his feet, fridge door clipping shut just as your fingers take hold of your juice.

“Thank you” you beam, dropping it into the basket that you had left when going on your search for help.

“Seokjin” he says, and your eyebrows furrow.  

“Pardon?”

“My name” he thrusts his hand in your direction, heart pattering just a little faster when you take it, “Kim Seokjin”

“It’s nice to meet you, Seokjin” and he feels his heart swell at the pretty little laugh you let out.

Regret had settled in when you’d bid him farewell with a pretty smile and a good night, because he hadn’t asked for your contact details and now, he was left dreaming of the pretty girl he’d met nights ago with no way of asking you on a date.

He’ll admit it to you now, laughing over how soppy he must have sounded in the few days before your second chance encounter, but back then, he’d spend every free moment thinking about all the places he’d love to take you; wondering what you liked, what you didn’t. All he had was your name and a few fleeting memories of how pretty you’d looked under the florescent lights of the convenience store, with fluffy pyjamas on and the most precious smile on your face.

It had been a week after your first meeting when he’d stumbled upon you again, further solidifying the fact you were destined for one another in his mind; because surely if you were to meet again unplanned, it had to mean something.

You’d been working at a café at the time, Jin on his way back from the library—far too late in the day for coffee but he had no plans of sleeping early, so the extra caffeine boost wasn’t unwelcomed.

It had been comical, how both your eyes had widened, pure unfiltered shock on your faces.

“Seokjin?” you’d smiled, and he had to remind himself how to breathe, words on the tip of his tongue that he wondered if he should utter or not; too worried he’d scare you away.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

Instant regret had washed over him after that, watching your face morph into that of confusion and then a soft smile tugging onto your face that had Jin mirroring your expression.

You lean over the counter, hands cupped over your mouth, “I was hoping you’d ask me the last time we’d met”

Your nose scrunches up when you fall back onto your feet, fingers tapping away his order on the screen.

“When do you get off work?” he’d asked, leaning against the counter when the onslaught of customers dies down and you’re left wiping down tables.

Jin truly believes the two of you belong together, even with the trials and tribulations of two species living under one roof, compromise had become important, but he would give up anything as long as the two of you could stay by one another’s side.

He didn’t mind how warm you needed the house even if he did have to sleep with the blankets off most nights, always making sure you were wrapped up warm on the days it was too cold for you outside; hybrid side showing as you shiver, even with the sun out. Standing tall to any other men that tried to pry into your little bubble, and as much as Jin brushed you off, rolling his eyes when you call him your perfect guard dog, a small part of him liked the idea that he could stay like this forever; warding off anyone neither of you liked, keeping you safe, knowing you were okay.

“Jin!” you wave, almost tripping over the uneven pavement as you skip towards where he’s stood outside the convenience store.

“I got the juice you like, baby” his arm wraps around your shoulder, craning his neck for a soft kiss that has his heart thumping hard against his chest, because no matter how long the two of you are together every kiss always feels like the first, “they actually had it restocked this time so I it was easy to reach”

You push yourself up onto the tips of your toes, featherlight kiss pressed to his cheek, “Thank you”

“I thought we could go to the park” his tail wags and you snicker.

“You really are a dog” your fingers interlace with his, “That’s fine, as long as we can get dinner on the way home”

“Of course, my darling” he swings your arms between your bodies, “There’s this new place that opened up downtown and the reviews are good”

As much as you liked to poke fun at Jin for believing in things as trivial as fate, there was no denying that your love story was moulded by destiny, starting with a truly inconvenient convenient encounter.

💫 thank you for reading!! feedback is always welcome

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

[gentleeclipsey]

It was too cute I couldn't not fuckin do it

A tidbit about this scene, I'm writing this for pure self indulgence because I can't bring myself to put it anywhere else:

The warrioress had spent days lost in the snowy wasteland. The blizzard had struck during the battle, viability vanished within moments, and when she felled her opponent Gnasha found herself alone amongst the dead. She scavenged for any scrap of scent she could of her tribe, and hesitantly followed the one trail she caught wind of, however, it was a dead end.

Wandering, she had no markers to track, and with the blizzard overtaking such a foreign place, she was utterly lost. The cold and hunger had begun to eat at her, the first few nights she did her best to hide amongst and beneath the pine boughs but they weren't much help against the wind before the snow would accumulate but even then the chill was eating through her hide.

Eventually, she'd stumbled upon the cave by pure happenstance. The entrance was tight, however as she slipped deeper she found the wind unable to reach her. Finally, in her moments of relief, she collapsed into a withered heap and slept.

How long she had slept was a mystery, however, the gentle prickle against her cheek awoke her slowly. It nearly felt like the footsteps of a spring beetle. Her dark eyes warily opened, nearly expecting spring, but instead Gnasha was face to face with the strangest creature she'd ever laid eyes on. Adrenaline thundered into her chest and she shot up, the plump, fluffy beast jumping back and tucking it's tail between its legs.

Her eyes adjusted slowly, and finally she was beginning to wake up properly. She wasn't staring down a creature, it was a plump little she-troll, furred and plush as the finest nest of royalty! Gnasha felt a pang of guilt, the little troll looked absolutely terrified to be in her presence, which was only natural. The false crest was made to be intimidating, and the armor was entirely recognizable to just about any troll within the area and beyond that had witnessed the wrath of her chieftain.

"I'm sorry," Gnasha spoke gently, lowering down onto her knuckles before standing on all fours, gently chuffing a soft submission, "I'm not from these lands, I've been lost for days..." a soft squeak mildly startled the warrior, it seemed to come from the stranger's nose. "Can you understand my tongues?" There was a hesitant nod, though no vocal conformation. "Can you speak?" There wasn't an answer, but the little troll began to approach.

In the dim light filtered from beyond the rocks, Gnasha could grasp more of the little stranger. She had paws, a grabbing toe on all four, and a tail just a bit longer than her body that seemed to be all muscle, and fat at the moment. Her mane was thick, curly, a bright metallic coppery red against a sandy flecked coat. Her fur was thick, nearly luxurious, no doubt to help with the winter.

As she approached slowly Gnasha could feel warmth permeating the air, and the fog of her breath began to vanish. The warrior offered her hand gently, causing the little stranger to step back for only a moment before she got close enough Gnasha could feel her whiskers again.

The little nose wiggled, sniffing quickly, "You look so sweet," Gnasha cooed, "Are you friendly? I won't hurt you-"

She jumped, feeling overgrown paws latch onto her hand faster than she could blink, but all in the same moment a cacophony of purrs erupted from the tiny frame as she smiled, aggressively nuzzling Gnasha's hand and beginning to lick the leather.

The seasoned murderess couldn't help but laugh, "Oh! Oh you're just a big soft sweetheart!" Gnasha couldn't help but return the purrs as the she-troll began to scent her hand, "Your paws are so warm." A smile split her face, a genuine one she hadn't felt in a very long time.

"You're cold," her voice was soft, sleepy, "My den's back here." Before Gnasha could object, she was beging dragged deeper into the cave, "Uh, what's your name? I'm Gnasha."

"Jackie, and don't worry, I'll feed you plenty."

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Oof, that Gosha prompt was good... any chance we could get a followup where he digests the two?

Absolutely. So read this one first if you want the context.

G.osha was in no rush to finish his tea. It might have drowned out the flavor of his double meal, but his occasional wet belches let their combined flavor come back up. L.egoshi and L.ouis wiggled around every time the old komodo dragon drank some tea and let it splash down over their bodies. G.osha licks his lips and rubs over his gut softly. "Oh, boys...you really made this old man feel young again."

The lizard’s green scales are stretched fairly over his two meals, letting him see even the little details of the two delicious young men packed so tightly together inside. L.ouis seems rather angry, constantly moving around as much as he can to try and get free. L.egoshi, however, just seems frightened and occasional calls out for his grandpa to get them out over the thick gurgling of the hungry stomach. G.osha’s only response is a rather crass belch that makes even him blush.

They’d be stewing all night in there, G.osha knows. His stomach hasn’t had meat like this in a long time. Even one of them would take some time, but both? He wouldn’t be surprised if they’re still kicking come morning. Or, well…he looks down contemplatively at his stomach, licking his lips. L.egoshi might make it but L.ouis? That delectable red deer likely doesn’t have much resilience to a Komodo dragon’s bodily fluids. He won’t take nearly as long.

After finishing the tea over the course of a couple hours, G.osha got to his feet and stretched out. His meals complain when the stomach gets more cramped and the old man lets out a very deep belch into the air, brown and grey fur fluttering off his thick breath. His gut lets out a deep groan and he gives it a few pats. “I really appreciate you two coming over, but I think it’s time I turned in for the night. Don’t be strangers now.” He smiles and waddles off, his stomach sloshing as he walks.

He goes about his usual nightly routine, taking a bath and getting ready for bed with a few last chores. By the time he gets himself into bed, his stomach is groaning and churning wetly, started to settle in on working down so much meat. G.osha let’s put a mighty yawn and pulls the blanket over himself. He hears a muffled whine from L.egoshi, one last plea to be let out. The Komodo dragon smiles and puts a hand over the frightened face bulge the wolf made. “Sleep well, L.egoshi. You know I love you.” With a few gentle Pat, G.osha closes his eyes and falls right asleep. The two young men in his gut aren’t able to sleep, though, as the stomach continues to work ruthlessly over them. They squirm and yell well into the night but they never make the old predator stir.

G.osha wakes up in the morning with a deep yawn, which evolves itself into a very deep, wet belch that brings up the distinct flavor of deer and wolf meat. He licks his lips and rubs over his stomach. “Aaah…good morning, boys. Are you still with me?” He removes the blanket to inspect the damage.

L.egoshi is still clearly in one place, twitching a bit when G.osha begins to move around. L.ouis, however, didn’t survive the night. The bulges the deer had made are now distinctly bones, most of the meat stripped from him and reduced to a bubbling slop that L.egoshi is undoubted swimming in now. G.osha smiles gently and rubs along the bulge of the wolf’s face, coaxing a whimper from him. “I’m sorry your boyfriend couldn’t be with us this morning, L.egoshi. But at least that way it’ll just be the two of us today.” A thick wet groan echos from G.OSHA’s stomach. “…or at least into the afternoon.”

With that, G.osha gets out of bed and goes about his morning routine. He’s rather careless with his stomach, though, letting it slosh around harshly and bump into things as he gets ready. By the time he sits down ti have a morning coffee, his stomach is squashed into the table, making L.egoshi cry out a bit and squirm. By this point, though, the poor wolf has gone from ‘grandson’ to ‘food’ for G.osha and is being treated as such.

After a couple of hours, G.osha decided to check on the damages in the mirror. A lot of L.ouis has added to him—his thighs and ass are looking thicker, and the detailed bulges of his gut seemed a lot more muted…though there’s also the chance that’s simply digestion taking its toll. Either way, he’s pleased with the results, smiling and flickering out his tongue. L.egoshi doesn’t appreciate being sloshed around as G.osha looks himself over, but at this point, he can barely move his body.

The lizard starts to feel along his stomach, kneading and squishing it with his hands. “You’re getting rather soft on me, L.egoshi. I doubt you’ll be around much longer…but L.ouis is already filling me out so nicely. I know you’re going to look amazing on me, too. Just remember how much I love you.” G.osha pushes down on his stomach, shoving L.egoshi deep under the thick sludge. He groans happily as he feels the wolf begin to kick and thrash on instinct. But his energy is draining fast. G.osha’s guts bubble loudly and he lets out a titanic belch. Everything goes still in his stomach and it gets notably softer as it finally claims the young wolf. “There we go…settle in for grandpa…”

Y.ahyu wasn’t too surprised by an invitation to G.osha’s house. What he was surprised by was seeing that his old friend is sporting a rather plush pot belly when he opens the door, his shirt riding up on it. It doesn’t take long for Y.ahyu to put the pieces together, but it’s only when he’s rubbing over the Komodo dragon’s plump figure that he works up a rather deep belch and gets some further confirmation. A deer and wolf skull fly out of G.osha’s maw, dripping in slime as they hit the floor. “Ah…I had my grandson and his boyfriend over for dinner last night,” he explains with a soft huff.

Y.ahyu smiles and needs his fingers deeper into G.osha’s stomach. “I see…young men like them must have a fair few friends, right? I’m sure they’d love to be introduced to you.”

G.osha smiles softly, his tongue flickering out and his stomach growling. “They left their phones…we should find out.”

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

Landing Chapter 2 of 2

Chapter 1

"Right, that's it!"

Jackie burst into Matthew's room, causing him to leap off the bed in shock.

"Jesus Christ, Jackie, what?!"

"You!" Jackie glared at him, her arms crossed over her chest. "We have barely seen you all week. You've been putting in way too much overtime and don't even try to pretend you're sleeping."

Matthew slumped back against the covers. Jackie was right. Seven days since Rafael had broken up with him and he was still lying awake, staring at the ceiling as sleep evaded him. He could only barely eat regular meals and yesterday he had nearly passed out in the hospital corridor, causing Inez to force him to take the afternoon off. Matthew didn't like doing that, at least at work he didn't have to think about his own problems...

A gentle scratch at his foot caught his attention and then Spooky was in his lap, looking up at him with her black, beady eyes. He ran his hand over her thick fur as he looked up at Jackie.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I just..."

"Working through your heartbreak, yeah yeah."

Jackie knew him too well. She sighed and sat down beside him.

"Come to Donahue's with us," she said gently. "Shower off, come out with us and at least get some fresh air. We'll meet Bryce, sit in the beer garden and have a bit of fun. What do you think?"

"I don't know..."

"Matthew." He looked at her and she gulped when she saw his prominent cheek bones and dull eyes, red-rimmed and shadowed. "Please," she said simply. "Just for an hour."

And that was how Matthew found himself sitting at an outdoor table at Donahue's beer garden, Sienna on one side and Bryce on the other, a cold pint of beer in front of him. His roommates bantered with each other, trading quips and barbs. He mostly just let it wash over him, trying to focus solely on the five people around him. Sienna's arm was linked comfortably with his. Bryce, supportive as ever beside him, was happily teasing Jackie about the prospect of having an intern to train in two months. Elijah was joking along but couldn't quite hide his nerves. Aurora had also agreed to meet them. She came out of her shell a tiny bit more every time they hung out. As Matthew took a mouthful of beer, she caught his eye and gave him a small smile, which he returned.

"Hey guys!"

Matthew froze. No...no, no...not now....

"Raf!" Sienna barely managed to keep the shock out of her voice. Matthew's grip tightened around his beer glass as he stared at the table, trying to suck in a deep breath as his lungs cramped.

"We weren't expecting to see you here!" Sienna continued, ever the diplomat.

"Well Sora and I wanted to grab a drink and we saw you out here. I'd love to introduce you all..."

There was some fumbling and coughing round the table, but Matthew knew what he had to do. He swallowed hard, forced a smile and looked up at Rafael and Sora.

He had only seen Rafael in passing over the last week, very briefly in the ER either bringing in patients or leaving for another call. Matthew couldn't trust himself to remain professional. Rafael's warm brown eyes had once been his whole world but it was impossible, looking at him now, to not think about how much of that world had never been meant for him. It belonged to the stranger beside him.

Sora smiled politely around at the group. He was a shorter than Matthew, but stocky. His hair was a little longer than Matthew had seen in the picture, but still smooth and sleek. And his eyes weren't dulled with sleep deprivation.

Rafael introduced them all one by one, and everyone said hello and exchanged smiles (except for Jackie, who simply inclined her head). Sora's smile was charming and he had a slight gap between his two front teeth. He sparked with interest when Rafael introduced Matthew. Rafael stuttered only very slightly on Matthew's initial.

"Matthew...Matthew Valentine? I've heard a lot about you!"

"Good things I hope," Matthew forced himself to say. His stomach squeezed and he swallowed again.

"The best." Sora was too cheerful. He was completely oblivious. "It sounds like you were very good friends!"

Friends. Because that was the best that Matthew could hope for now. Because the nights he had spent with Rafael, everything they had shared, the worry of his hearing, work stress, flying over the city, dancing in the street, none of it really mattered in the end. Whilst Matthew had been falling for Rafael and having the best summer of his life, Rafael had been merely passing the time until his real person came back. Friends...

Almost automatically, Matthew's eyes darted back to Rafael who was scratching the back of his neck. He met Matthew's eyes and looked guilty and apologetic...but Matthew didn't want to know. He turned back to the table and swallowed a few more mouthfuls of beer, despite the painful flutter in his stomach.

"Why don't you hang out here a little while?" Bryce offered, dispelling the awkward silence.

"How have you settled into Boston?" Sienna asked, at the same time as Elijah asked Sora how his work was going.

Sora chuckled as he easily fielded their questions. Matthew continued to stare at the table as Sora talked about his teacher training and from September he'd be finally teaching a class of his own. Matthew tugged a hand through his hair.

"Not gonna lie, I was nervous about coming back to Boston after so long. But coming back to Raf, it was actually the best thing."

Matthew glanced up to see Sora's arm tight around Rafael's waist and his heart twisted sharply.in his chest. The lump in his throat cut off his airways and his fist clenched in his hair.

"Babe, honestly, you've made an overwhelming process so much easier..."

Matthew's ears were ringing and he felt like he was falling into the centre of the earth. His vision blurred and he tried to take another breath except his lungs appeared to have shut down completely.

And then Sora was kissing Rafael full on the mouth.

Matthew's fist tensed around his glass and he downed the rest of his beer, slamming the glass back down, causing Sora and Rafael to break apart.

"Going to get another round," he muttered, pushing himself away from the table.

"Wait, do you need..." Sienna started to ask, but her question was drowned out by the general crowd as Matthew stormed back inside, blood pounding in his ears as his heart shattered for what seemed like the millionth time.

The crowd inside was starting to pick up. Matthew kept his eyes downward as he maneuvered his way through the people and into the cool, quiet mens toilet.

Mercifully it was empty. Matthew leaned heavily against the sink, bracing himself against the chrome, forcing himself to breathe. It was a huge effort on his lungs and each inhale was a sharp pain through his heart. Each beat ached like a bruise and he fought hard against the lump in his throat.

Come on...Dr Valentine...Keep it together... he thought to himself. He could do it, any personal or professional problem could be hidden by a calm smile and a gentle manner and today would be no different.

But it was so hard seeing it all in person. He and Sora couldn't look more different--his hair scruffy, Sora's smooth, his eyes blue, Sora's black. He was tall and thin, Sora was short and stocky. And the undeniable fact that Sora had something that Matthew just couldn't give. His heart ached and Matthew wrapped his arms across his chest. Here was a pain that couldn't be cured with medicine and he longed for it to end.

Matthew closed his eyes and the image of Sora kissing Rafael danced in front of his eyelids before he wrenched them open again. How many times had that image taunted him? Nothing compared to the agony of seeing it in the flesh.

And yet...Matthew realised he didn't hate Sora. Or Rafael. Maybe he should have done, but he couldn't blame Sora for being attracted to Rafael. Matthew pictured Rafael leaving Boston for a couple of years, himself meeting someone else and growing to like them, but then Rafael coming back into his life unexpectedly. Given the way he felt about Rafael...could he say, with his hand on his heart, that he wouldn't try again? Matthew wasn't sure. He bit his lip as a tear welled up.

The door crashed open as someone stumbled in. Matthew jumped, having forgotten he was crying in a public bathroom.

The young man was very drunk already and peered at Matthew. "You don't look very happy," he said, unnecessarily.

"Excuse me," Matthew muttered, hastily wiping his face as he re-entered the bar where a familiar figure was now approaching the counter.

"Dr Ramsey?"

Ethan glanced over. "Rookie," he nodded, his standard greeting.

Matthew approached the counter where the bartender was mixing drinks and told Matthew he'd be a few minutes. Matthew nodded.

"I'm actually glad you're here, I need to tell you something," Ethan said suddenly. He took a sip of scotch and turned to face Matthew.

"I...I've been asked to join the WHO in the Amazon. There's been an epidemic break out and they need all the help they can get."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Matthew asked, alarmed.

"No, no, I'll be gone for a couple of months but I'll be back at Edenbrook afterwards."

"Oh. Well." Matthew brushed his hand over his hair. "Good luck. What about about the diagnostics team?"

"They have been informed, and your fellow teammates will start your initiation if I'm not back in time for the start of your second year."

Matthew nodded, considering. "Can I tell my friends?"

"If you like. An official announcement will be made soon but it doesn't matter if it's not a secret."

"OK." Matthew felt like he should be excited for what was to come, but he didn't have the energy. Ethan looked at him, giving him that intense look he got when he was reading someone, the one that made Matthew feel like he was under a microscope.

"Are you alright?" Ethan asked, with a gentle tone to his voice that caught Matthew off-guard. He swallowed, his hand going back to his hair.

"Um...I'm here with my friends...and my ex appeared with his new boyfriend who wanted to meet everyone." Matthew turned his face back to the bar top. He should have known going out would be a mistake.

"I'm sorry." Ethan sounded sympathetic.

"Dr Ramsey, this won't affect anything, I promise you I can keep my personal feelings out of my job--"

"I know you can." Ethan looked alarmed at Matthew's sudden justification. "Matthew...I know you work hard, and if I didn't believe you could handle the diagnostics team I'd have overridden Naveen immediately. But remember, we need you at your best. There's no shame in taking time for yourself."

That was unexpected. Matthew wondered if Ethan had heard about his fainting spell in the hospital. His throat worked as he tried to fight back a lump again when the song on the jukebox suddenly caught his attention: Country roads, take me home, to the place, I belong...

Matthew had been born and raised in Denver, Colorado and lived there until he was fifteen. He had endured plenty of jokes about John Denver, despite the fact in this particular song he had been singing about West Virginia. Teenagers never listened...

I get the feeling that I should have been home yesterday...

Matthew remembered his home state that already felt like another life. He could barely remember the boy who had grown up in Colorado when so much of who he was now had been shaped by his experiences in Boston and the people in it. Matthew had outgrown Colorado. Of course he would visit his parents, but he had no plans to go back.

Except...did Boston really once hold his future the way it once seemed to? Edenbrook, Mass Kenmore, same shit, different building. A hospital in Massachusetts and a hospital in California all boiled down to the same thing: curing the sick. So what tied him to Boston when there were hospitals all over America, all over the world?

Matthew was just floating. He wasn't tied to anything or anyone. He treated new patients everyday but all they saw was a doctor in scrubs, just one of many, his face forgotten as soon as the discharge paperwork was signed. At the end of the day he would go home to his apartment but, no matter how much his friends tried, it was just another space he happened to occupy. Going through the motions passing the time until when, exactly? And now that he thought about it, he suddenly realised...he had no idea who he was outside of work.

His throat convulsed as his stomach lurched. Matthew ripped away from the counter and towards the door, sprinting for a nearby open trash can where he vomited spectacularly.

"Better out than in, buddy."

Matthew looked up to see Bryce standing over him, a sympathetic smile that didn't completely mask his concern. Matthew took careful deep breaths to quell his shaking. Once he was sure his stomach was empty he slowly stood upright. His eyes and nose were streaming.

"I'm not crying," He sniffled, wiping his face on his sleeve. Then he sighed. "Actually, I can't really tell."

"Do you want a glass of water?" Bryce asked and Matthew nodded. Bryce ducked back into the bar and came back with a plastic cup brimming with water. Matthew sipped it slowly when a thought came to him.

"Oh god, I said I was going to get a round, like, twenty minutes ago. I should go back and actually do that..."

Bryce caught hold of Matthew's arm.

"Don't go anywhere. For god's sake, don't put yourself through that again," he said gently. "You don't owe it to Rafael to go back and make pleasant small talk with the new guy."

"It would be heard to make pleasant anything after that display earlier," Matthew muttered. He cringed as he remembered the forced smile as Rafael had introduced him to Sora. He hadn't been fooling anyone.

"I told Sora you said you were coming down with flu and weren't feeling yourself. Everyone else rolled with it," Bryce said, as if he could tell what Matthew thinking. "I mean, we work in a hospital. It happens."

Matthew nodded, tossing his empty cup into the trash.

"Would it be obvious if I left?"

"Who cares? You don't need to explain anything to anyone. Let's just go, I'll walk you home. Or literally anywhere else." Bryce squeezed Matthew's shoulder. "Raf and Sora were talking about getting a drink just now so you'll only be suffering in their company."

Matthew shuddered involuntarily. "Let's just walk. But I'm telling Sienna."

Bryce nodded, and as they walked away from Donahue's, Matthew sent Sienna a private message that he and Bryce were leaving. He got a reply a minute later: love you xxxx

The two of them just walked in silence for a while, until they came to a stop at a bridge across the Charles River. They leaned against the rail, looking at the city skyline in the distance. The sky was pink with sunset and the low light caused dramatic shadows on Bryce's face. It made Matthew look more ghost-like.

Matthew glanced up, watching a flock of birds flying towards the west. He'd had a birds-eye view of the city once. He'd once flown alongside the setting sun. A sob suddenly choked up and out of his throat and he dragged his wrists over his eyes. It was like scrubbing his skin with sandpaper.

"Matthew?"

"I'm so tired of crying!" Matthew groaned as he turned to face Bryce. Bryce's eyes--not quite as round and brown as Rafael's--were sad, and reflected Matthew's anguished face back at him.

"Everything reminds me of Rafael," Matthew admitted, shamefully. "Or I'm thinking of him without meaning to...some mornings last week I woke up and had actually forgotten about what happened for a second...no, the worst mornings were when I woke up after dreaming it had never happened..." Matthew hid his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. "My eyes hurt," he added with a pathetic sniff.

Bryce stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him tightly. "You're allowed to cry, you know," he reminded him. "There's nothing manly about supressing your emotions, I'm certainly not judging. Remember our first day, when you cried in the supply closet and felt so much better for it?"

Matthew suddenly snorted a laugh, surprising himself. Bryce let go of him with a smile, and then they both perched on the concrete railing of the bridge.

"Haven't you ever had a break up before?" Bryce asked uncertainly. He was surprised when Matthew shook his head.

"Not like this. I wasn't ready to date in high school but decided to branch out in college. I went on dates and had some hook-ups...just nothing compared to how I felt for Rafael."

Matthew remembered the eight years across college and med school; he would meet someone attractive and they would get together for a date or for sex, but ultimately the deeper connection was never there. The worst he got was the occasional disappointment of waking up to an empty bed, or the sting of clearing a contact from his phone after several days of no contact.

And then, barely a week after starting at Edenbrook, he met Rafael in the ambulance bay and everything suddenly seemed to fit. The two of them just worked. Rafael had shown Matthew all sorts of hidden treasures in the city, had introduced Matthew to his beloved grandmother, and somehow had a knack for appearing just when Matthew needed him.

Matthew felt a pang when he thought of Juliana's small, cosy house, and her endearing hospitality. He missed her. He had been teased with the family that he might once have known. Had to walk through a city that had been washed through with Rafael's presence, and Matthew could never truly be a part of it.

Matthew scuffed his shoe along the concrete.

"I think I want to leave Boston."

"Seriously?" Bryce's eyes went wide. "But what about your residency?"

"I can transfer to somewhere else, Massachusetts or otherwise." Desperation crept into Matthew's voice.

"Don't you think that's a bit drastic?"

"Look at me!" Matthew spread his arms out. "Does it look like staying in Boston will be healthy?!"

Bryce had to admit, Matthew had a point with his sunken eyes and cheeks, and the clothes that were suddenly hanging off him.

"I...I need a fresh start. I need to heal. And I don't think I can do that when so much of my life in Boston has been affected by my ex." It still cut him to use the word ex in connotation with Rafael. Matthew's head ached.

"You know it'll pass, right?" Bryce said gently. "Even if it doesn't seem like it now. Give it another week, a month, then two months and you'll be at least a little better."

Matthew had thrown up into a trash can and cried his eyes out whilst standing on a public bridge. It was very hard to believe Bryce at that moment.

"I can't think two months ahead," Matthew whispered. Work. Eat. Sleep. Work. Eat. Sleep.

"Second year of residency starts in two months," Bryce offered. "Career progression...tasty little pay rise...and hey, you're joining the diagnostics team! That's something to look forward to, right?"

How could Matthew have forgotten? The place on the diagnostics team that his entire intern class had signed up to compete for. He almost hadn't...and then he had won anyway.

Although it wasn't necessarily a win. Dr Banerji offered him the place after Matthew had diagnosed his life-threatening condition in the nick of time. He had earned that place, no matter what his insecurities tried to tell him.

"I...guess it would be stupid to leave Boston now," he conceded.

Bryce looked relieved. "Give it at least another year," he proposed.

Matthew nodded, then closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Bryce cocked his head to one side.

"Feeling alright, Matthew?"

"Headache."

"That'd be the crying, though the alcohol and vomiting didn't help." Bryce hopped off the railing. "Come on."

"Where are we going now?"

"Wanna go back to my apartment? We can order in. And you are going to drink a bucket of water."

Matthew rolled his eyes as he clambered down from the railing, but gratitude lifted his expression.

As the night fell, they headed back to Bryce's apartment where they ordered loaded cheeseburgers and fries, though Matthew was only picking at his. He drank several glasses of water as he and Bryce cruised TV channels and talked about lighter topics. Messages were being passed in his house group chat: Sora and Rafael had left Donahue's after a drink but the rest of the group had stayed for a few more rounds. Jackie was furious about the turn of events; Sienna, Elijah and Aurora were still working to placate her.

Matthew felt a rush of love for them. It was the people, not the place, that made a home and--no matter how empty he felt without Rafael--he never wanted to forget the heart warming support from the friends who had become his family.

[lovedabishiga]

TouShiga (Kitsune/Cursed Spirit)

Tomura doesn’t know how long it has been.

He’s lost count by the 100th sunrise, his surroundings passing by in rapid blur of shapes and colors. From green and golden summers to red and weary autumns, grey and blue winters to a bright and bloody springtime. No matter, Tomura is always where he should be: sitting on the ledge of the platform, leaning on the offering box. Just silent, waiting. For what? he doesn’t know. The moments are always fleeting.

Meanwhile He stays, perpetually watching.

What Tomura hasn’t lost count, at the very least, is the number of the slender and tipped-scorched fox tails swaying behind His back.

He had four. “I’m sorry if I was gone for so long,” Before that, He had five. “Did you miss me?”

Now, Tomura counts six. “Do you still remember my name?”

“Touya,” Tomura croaks out, like the thirsty toad at the first drop of rain. “Touya. Tou, what did you – ?”

Instantly, his lungs puff out, his mouth inexplicitly bitter. Something in the air strikes him to cry out and laugh. To stomp, to flail, to call for help, to sing to the heavens. But as soon Tomura tries too, Touya swoops in, like a swallow to the worm, embracing him in His warm and nimble arms. His tails, radiating both might and curses, envelop him on all sides, smothering him, caressing him.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. Not a word from your pretty little mouth,” As if wiping a piece of food on his lips, Touya brings the end of sleeve to Tomura’s mouth. “There. All better. I’m so glad that you still remember.”

Tomura swallows his spit. How did you?

“Hm? Oh, you noticed! I just went to go on a hunt, that’s all!”

Tomura gulps down his bile. Why did you?

“’Cause I need to. Despite the passing times, my Father is yet to get any weaker.”

Where am I?

Touya smiles. “You’re safe here with me. Father may be powerful but he isn’t sharp enough to find us.”

No, where am I?

Touya tilts his head, blinking. “Hm? Oh you mean my home? No?”

WhERE aM I?

“Ah. I get it. I was away for too long.”

WHAT AM I?

“But don’t worry, I’m here now. It will only be a little painful, but it won’t take long, you know it doesn’t. Afterward you won’t remember another thing – ”

Tomura breathes – and finds that he couldn’t. “nO – ”

A burst of air blast through Tomura’s shoulders. But Touya’s tails keep him grounded, captured. They hide him from the onlooker who’s crossed the line that Tomura has only noticed until now. The stranger, dressed in loose robes and armed with a golden staff, stares at Touya who hisses in response.

“At last I’ve found you now, you evil Fox,” the stranger bellows. “All those burnt corpses and razed villages, have you ever thought about the families who have to deal with that loss?”

Touya frowns, a dark look crossing his gentle features. “Who dares enter a god’s abode? And with that pathetic wand?” The tails around Tomura clutch tighter. “Leave us be and I’ll reconsider killing your entire monastery.”

The stranger, no, monk squints his eyes, looking at the mess of fur and tails, then at Tomura. The monk’s anger turns from confusion, to disbelief, pity, then pure and unadulterated outrage. “You even cursed a soul, you damn beast! Is stealing and eating for you not enough?”

Touya snarls. “You know nothing! Get out of our home!”

But the monk starts chanting and Touya pounces. Everything around Tomura swirls in a mess of loud colors and bright sounds. Of snarling white, steadfast amber; hot blues and metallic yellow and the red and mesmerizing eep of a whimper.

Then, the light.

Then, the darkness.

Then, nothing.

Then –

Tomura doesn’t know how long it has been.

He’s lost count by the 100th sunrise, his surroundings passing by in rapid blur of shapes and colors. No matter, Tomura is always where he should be: sitting on Touya’s lap, leaning against Touya’s shoulder. Just silent, staring. At what? Something used to be there, right in front of him. It’s gone now.  

Meanwhile Touya stays, perpetually hovering.

Tomura still remembers, at the very least, the Fox’s name, even if he can’t say it anymore.

A breeze passes through Tomura, and he shivers, nuzzling against Touya’s chest, seeking warmth. Letting out an amused sigh, Touya wraps His tails around Tomura – two around his legs, two around his torso, one on each shoulder, then on his head, leaving the last swishing behind.